Adventures in Solitude
by katamarann
Summary: Modern AU. The beginning of an affair of convenience and understanding. Anna Smith and John Bates are professionals who live on opposite sides of the globe. When they meet at a conference, things get personal too quickly, and they have to deal with the consequences of a seemingly casual relationship that neither of them was looking for. Prequel to So Long, Lonesome.
1. promise-suspicion

_**promise.**_

At some point, that highly marketed and oft quoted phrase _"What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas"_ was whispered in the darkness. And it did _(until it didn't)._ It was slurred with a resigned sigh and a wink and smile, with unfamiliar touches and tentative glances between them that grew more sure and bold as the night went on. It became a promise and a bond, a way to lie and a way to justify their actions.

What happened in Vegas, stayed in Vegas. Until it didn't.

* * *

 _ **fate.**_

She hated conferences. She hated having to uproot herself for a week to go to a city she really had no interest in visiting, to meander amongst vendors and corporate shills, and listen disinterestedly to overpaid speakers who she could talk circles around if she had the chance _(and she would, soon enough)_. This week, she was in Las Vegas, which seemed thrilling in concept, but in reality was far from it. She was trapped indoors, avoiding the blistering heat and sun that her English skin wasn't made for _(though she had to admit that she tanned nicely)_ , and if one more overconfident pharma rep tried to lure her to their booth, she might scream.

That was how she found herself retreating to a small room off the main hall, in search of cooler air and less crowded space. She needed the safety and comfort of being alone, which was why she was mildly disappointed to see someone already in the room, leaning against the wall beside the door, swirling the contents of a half-empty plastic water bottle in one hand.

She gave him a little self deprecating smile without really looking at him, and made a show of whipping out her phone to check her messages. Avoidance was the goal here. She just needed enough time to calm down, collect her thoughts, and venture back out onto the convention floor.

"I hate these things too." A warm baritone voice, a warm _British_ voice. She immediately looked up and met his kind eyes. Dark hair framed a round face, with an unruly lock that kissed his forehead.

"You've come a long way then?" She cocked her head to one side, emails and messages forgotten.

His smile was genuine, his expression disbelieving and joyous at the same time. "Just from San Francisco," he said. "By way of Sheffield a few years ago. You're a long way from Yorkshire, though, if I'm hearing correctly?"

"You are," she replied with a wide smile. "By way of London."

As fate would have it, in a city filled with travelers and dreamers and revelers, she found herself in the company of the one proper Englishman _(Irish-Scot-English, he later emphasized, in that order, with a smattering of Spanish privateer's blood)._

And that was how it started. By the end of the afternoon, she knew everything and nothing about John Bates, and she told him what she would let him know. And sometime around ten that night, when he escorted her back to her room like a proper gentleman, with a hopeful wish that they may see each other the next day, she grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him into her room, pressing her mouth against his hungrily.

She didn't see _(or she chose not to see)_ the pale, waxy flesh circling the third finger of his left hand, and he apparently didn't catch the image of a smiling young man on her phone when it silently rang for the fifth time that evening _(and for the fifth time, unanswered)_ before she turned the phone off with a roll of her eyes and an apology.

Soft touches and nervous laughter, heavy breaths tinged with the mutual tang of perhaps a little too much alcohol from the hotel bar, the excitement of someone new and rather pleasant to look at, who was wholeheartedly dedicated to the task at hand, made for a passionate night. Again and again, with stamina that surprised them both, they lost themselves in each other. Eventually, they exhausted each other, and fell asleep, limbs entwined _(and had she known him a bit longer, she could say she felt_ loved _)._

* * *

 _ **awakenings.**_

When she opened her eyes sometime mid-morning, his side of the bed was empty. She swallowed a mouthful of cotton and fuzzy memories and shook her head at his absence _(what did she expect, after all?)._ Then she heard the quiet closing of the door to her room and awakened fully. Turning over, she was met with a pair of hazel eyes and a kind smile, a hundred questions behind them.

John _(that was his name, right? John.)_ offered her a tray from room service and a proper breakfast. It was awkward, to say the least, to sit on the bed with him, wrapped in nothing but a robe, sharing breakfast and occasionally stealing bacon or fruit from each others plates, but it was what it was. A one night stand that they mutually enjoyed, followed by farewells in the morning. At least it was to be a good parting.

Their conversation was light and non-committal, until she looked across the last of her coffee at him and said, "I have no regrets, you know." _(not with the way he had taken her over the edge again and again and made her feel worshiped and adored)_

He smiled and sagged his shoulders in relief. "Me either," he replied _(not the way she looked at him like he was the only man in the universe)_. The worry lines around his eyes gave way to happy ones, and before long, her robe was discarded and his already wrinkled shirt gathered more creases on the floor. There was no haze of alcohol this time, no fear of inadequacy, just contented sighs and pleasured moans, and when they finished…

* * *

 _ **leaving.**_

John lingered perhaps a beat too long as they kissed over the threshold of her hotel room door before spinning on his heel and walking away slowly, with a hitch in his gait and a smile thrown over his shoulder.

Anna closed the door and leaned heavily against it, fingers pressed to her lips, before she rolled her eyes and sighed wistfully. She took a much needed shower, letting her hands linger in places that had been so wonderfully tended the night before.

She remembered to turn her phone on afterward and rolled her eyes at the dozen missed calls and text messages. She deleted them without reading and sent a single reply.

 _changed my mind. don't want to work it out._

 _what changed?_ was his reply minutes later.

Anna tapped the side of her phone with her finger before sending two last words.

 _I did._

* * *

 _ **suspicion.**_

He didn't find the business card that Anna had slipped into his jacket pocket with her mobile number and a smiley face scrawled on the back.

His wife, however, did find it.


	2. marked-insatiable

_**marked.**_

Anna stood in front of her bathroom mirror, craning her neck from side to side. Two days later, it was still there, the distinct redness that he'd left upon her skin.

 _(the second time, she'd given him a wicked smile over her shoulder as she grabbed the headboard and arched backward)_

She realized that she was breathing heavier, her fingers gripping the cool edge of the sink tightly as she lost herself in her memories. She shook her head and turned on the tap, then splashed water on her face. She dried her hands, then brought one down to graze the skin at her waistline.

 _(fingers dug into her hips almost painfully at the end, her cries muffled by the pillow as his teeth nipped, then soothed her shoulder)_

She hadn't heard anything from him, and she was both disappointed and relieved. She'd left the ball in his court by giving him her card, but left things up to chance by slipping that card into his pocket undetected. It was too soon after her last one ended to even think about a new relationship, and if Newcastle and London couldn't work out, how the hell would San Francisco and London?

It was a fling. A harmless, reckless _(albeit thoroughly enjoyable)_ fling.

God help her if she ever saw him again, though. She had been marked by him - mind, body, and soul.

* * *

 _ **madness.**_

He couldn't get her out of his mind and it was _maddening._ After that night in Las Vegas, every petite blonde he saw was her. Every light laugh that reached his ears was hers. Every time he smelled coconut _anything_ _(she said she'd had to use liberal amounts of sunscreen just to step out of the front door of her hotel without burning)_ , he immediately raised his head and sniffed at the breeze like a hound after his prey _._ He nearly came out of his chair while flipping through the channels one evening when he heard a Yorkshire lilt on some high-class period drama _(he made a mental note to look it up later, when his head was less muddled)_.

A week went by and she was all he could think about, day and night _(especially at night)_. He'd told her he worked in pharmaceuticals in his company's San Francisco office. She had steered the conversation away from work and careers early on, so he never really learned much about what she did, only that she worked in research. He even went so far as to look her name up in London, but it appeared she was unlisted. _(or maybe had given him a false name?)_ He resigned that she was a memory _(and a damned good one)_.

Nonetheless, he was deep within those memories one evening when he heard the key turn in the lock and the front door of the house open, the sharp beep of the alarm signaling that someone had entered the foyer. He could almost smell the smoke on her as soon as she walked in _(Mrs. Mephistopheles herself)._ Shaken out of his fantasy and thrust back into reality, John grit his teeth and stared at the ceiling.

"What do you want, Vera?" he asked flatly.

His wife _(estranged, separated, and he should feel guilty, but he didn't)_ came into his field of peripheral vision and stopped, her arms crossed. "Lovely to see you too, Johnny," she mocked.

John closed his eyes and sighed. He dared not change the locks or the security code, as it would violate their agreement. "You saw me at the office this morning," he groaned, passing one weary hand over his eyes. "Why are you here?"

"Just came by to pick up a few things _(his pride and dignity)_ and then I'll be off," she replied. "Some clothes and such."

"You could have just sent me an interoffice memo or even an email," he sighed. "I'd have brought them in tomorrow."

She huffed and looked toward the bedroom hall, where they'd shared a bed and a life for seven years, and then only the hall between them for another. Now, they didn't even share that much. "Well, I wanted them now," she snipped. _(of course)_

John snorted and rolled his eyes before standing and scrubbing his face with both hands. "Just get them and go," he said in tired resignation.

Vera only shook her head and tsked. She dug into her purse and pulled out a cigarette, placing it between her lips before fishing for a lighter.

"Not in the house," he chided her.

"Since when?"

"Since you started spending every night with _Rrrrrrrick_?" he reminded her, drawing his _(estranged, soon to be ex, if he could just work that out)_ wife's current flame's name out in a snarl.

 _(And since a lovely lady expressed her exasperation that hotels and casinos in Vegas hadn't gone non-smoking like the majority of the United States, he himself had gone cold turkey)_

"My offer still stands, you know," he said quietly. "You can have the house. It has has to be worth at least six million now. The house and a quarter of the buyout."

"That's not the way the agreement works, my dear," she replied with a smile that reminded him far too well why they'd drifted apart. "I'll get half if you walk now."

John leaned his head against the back of the couch and sighed heavily. "Even if you're sleeping with another man?"

"Well, Murray was a terrible lawyer, what can I say?" _(she did have a point)_ Vera snorted and walked toward the back door, grabbing his black jacket off the wall peg on her way outside, the one he hadn't worn since he got back from Vegas. John closed his eyes, waiting for her to return, not really willing to leave her alone in the house _(he had to make sure she didn't steal anything of his)._

Only a few short moments later, she came back into the house, not even smelling of fresh smoke, and slid past him without a word.

"You grabbing whatever it is you wanted?" John called after her with a confused frown.

Vera stripped off the jacket and tossed it onto the back of the couch _(for someone who cared about appearances, she didn't care about anyone else's space)._ She shrugged and fumbled inside her purse. "I just realized I didn't need them after all," she said with a small smile. "I can buy more. Don't worry, Johnny," she called over her shoulder. "It's only a few more years."

And with that, Vera Kent Bates slinked out the door, leaving him alone with his bitterness.

* * *

 _ **shock.**_

Bonn. Her second conference in as many weeks. But this time, she was one of the keynote speakers rather than just a spectator, in her debut on the public stage. Anna clicked her mouse through the Powerpoint presentation her assistant had prepared _(note to self, tell Thomas that Comic Sans is_ **not** _an acceptable font professionally)_ as she elaborated on her company's technology developments. Doctor Anna Smith, PhD, was finally getting her chance to show off her expertise to the medical world _(after a very frantic Ctrl-A and switch to Arial)._

As her presentation drew to a close, her eyes happened to glance toward the far right corner of the room, where a tall and broad figure made her heart race. She felt her face flush but she managed to recover quickly enough to finish, all the while in the back of her mind, convincing herself it wasn't _him (oh, but if it were…)._

 _(but what would she do if it were?)_

She would knew that smile anywhere. It _was_ him.

* * *

 _ **reconnect.**_

He slipped into the hotel's small ballroom quietly, sighing when he saw that it was standing room only. He was still lugging his carryon over his shoulder from the flight. After eleven hours on a plane, he only wanted to find his room and his shower and his bed. But he knew he had to check in with his company reps at the conference.

But there she was.

 _(and she was marvelous)_

With a start, he realized that Anna _(his loveliest dream)_ was presenting on new findings in pediatric cancer research. He quickly flipped through the program he'd been handed on the way in to find her photo and bio. Doctor Anna Smith _(she'd said Anna May? no wonder he couldn't find her in London),_ PhD, research fellow at Grantham Technologies. London office. _(she works with Robert)_

His heart beating wildly in his chest, he looked up at the same moment that she looked down and caught his eye. She looked away, and back, and away again, before fumbling her words and brushing her hair back from her face. A little nod of recognition from her, a smile from him, was all it took.

* * *

 _ **desire.**_

Something powerful within strummed her from top of head to tip of toe, and it took every ounce of self-control to finish her presentation. She finished to polite applause and stepped off the stage, pausing only to unplug her laptop and shove it into her bag. She didn't even bother turning it off. She had to make polite small talk with a few people, two of whom were hungry-eyed men who asked her out to dinner _(oh, come on, really?)_ , but she kept glancing over to where John stood nonchalantly. He was keeping a respectful distance _(is that good or bad?)._

Finally, she managed to dodge the last two older men who had tried to corner her and made her way toward the back of the room. He met her halfway.

"Hello there," John said warmly.

"Hello to you, too," Anna replied. _(he looked tired)_

"Anna Smith, doctor and scholar," John said with a bemused chuckle. "You never told me that."

Anna hummed and raised her eyebrow. "It was on my business card," she pointed out.

"I never got a business card from you."

She blinked. She remembered sliding it into the pocket of the very jacket he wore now. "Check your left jacket pocket?"

He fumbled and shrugged when his hands came up empty. "Nothing there," he said slowly, his eyes narrowing in thought.

Anna shrugged and sighed _(in relief)._ "Guess it must have fallen out."

"Had I known, I would have looked you up," John said, leaning forward slightly. "I did try, you know. To look you up." _(then he_ _ **was**_ _interested, after all)_

Something electric crackled in the air, and Anna found herself looking down and back up at him before smiling, her breath quickening. "You want to grab something to eat?" she said in a rush.

John's grin was immediate _(and decidedly hungry for something other than food)_.

* * *

 _ **insatiable.**_

With a groan, he released into her, mental overriding the physical just enough to keep her securely pinned against the door and to not let her go. She quaked around him, her own body still rippling with aftershocks, her breath ragged in his ear, her hands clutching desperately to his shoulders.

She giggled throatily and nipped at his earlobe, then carefully shifted her weight to lower one foot, then the other as John set her down. He tried to catch his breath, and feeling light-headed, leaned his head against the cool wood of the door beside hers.

"Christ," he muttered _(half impressed, half shocked, and completely satisfied)_

Anna giggled again, and he decided that it was his favourite sound in the world. "I don't know. There was something rather un-Biblical about all of that," she teased, scraping the nails of one hand along his side under his shirt.

John snorted and kicked his pants off his ankles before he tripped himself. Anna cleared her throat and smoothed her skirt back down, though it would take an iron to get the wrinkles out. They stood there silently for several moments, not looking at one another, wondering what was next.

 _(now,_ _ **now**_ _it was awkward)_

"So," John said finally as he started fumbling his shirt buttons back together. "We missed lunch."

"Right," Anna said, suddenly all business _(as if they hadn't just fucked against a hotel door when god only knows who could hear them)_. "We also missed the talk on genetic screening. I have another seminar to get to at half five, so that's two hours to get something to eat?" She was already walking toward the small bathroom and straightening her hair.

It only took her a minute or two to get herself cleaned up and run a brush through her straw-colored hair. Enough time for John to toss the condom into the wastebasket and sit down on the bed heavily, his legs finally giving up on him.

She emerged from the bathroom, buttoning her blouse carefully. _(they had to find that stray button)_ "You're not going like that?" Anna asked with upturned lips, glancing down at his bare legs. _(together, she means together. this might be going somewhere)_

"Of course not," John scoffed, snagging his pants with one foot and slipping them back on. By the time he stood up to fasten his belt, she already had every hair and stitch of clothing back in place.

John smiled as he toed on his shoes. "Las Vegas and now Bonn. I don't suppose you're going to be in Boston on the seventh?" he joked. "We can meet up again there."

Anna's spine straightened slightly and her lips pursed. She took two shallow breaths and wet her lips nervously. "Actually, I am," she said after a moment of thought, glancing down at her hands. "And then Chicago the next week, and Tel Aviv two days after that."

He swallowed thickly and shook his head. Everywhere he would be over the next few weeks. It was the constant travel that drove the first wedge between him and Vera and he'd resigned himself to the lonely life of a vagabond corporate traveler.

 _(you've met your match, old boy, and she looks like a rabbit in a trap)_

"I'm sorry," he said quickly, running one hand through his hair. "I would never presume to think that…"

"Mister Bates," Anna cut him off just as quickly, narrowing her eyes and setting her jaw. She'd crossed her arms for a moment, but relaxed with a smile. "It seems we're a lot alike, you and I. It's hard for people like us to have relationships, I think."

"It is," he agreed, thinking of Vera again.

"So things got off on an interesting foot for us," Anna continued. _(how was she able to think as much as she was right now?)_ "It seems fate has decided to throw us together."

"I'm glad of that," he said carefully, which earned a smile.

Anna reached out her hand and he took it after a moment's pause. "Let's get some dinner, and see how the rest of the weekend works out for us, shall we?" Her smile was inviting and friendly, and he knew he was lost.

 _(and he never did check into his room the entire weekend)_


	3. private-desperate

_**private.**_

They kept themselves hidden. They kept each other secret. There was no exchange of words about the matter, it was just understood _._ During the day, they were absolutely professional, seldom speaking other than to exchange polite _hellos_ and _how are yous_ and _funny seeing you agains_.

But at night…

 _(oh, at night)_

Every evening on the first night of every trip, their eyes would seek the other in the crowd. In a conference room. At a restaurant. In a meeting. And one would text the other a seemingly random sequence of numbers _(253 2230, 1475 2145, 14 1900),_ and the other would appear promptly at the designated hour. _(hungry and eager and ready)_

"So," Anna finally began on their single night in Tel Aviv, _(where the music of a weekend street carnival below them was nothing compared to the sound of her sighs and melody of her words)_ , "what exactly do you do when you're not travelling the world?" She snuggled into his side and draped one leg over his _(the one with the scar, the one that he'd always been so careful with, that he never let hamper him, but occasionally touched with a slight grimace and a distant stare)_. "What do you go home to?" she asked.

 _(or who, he felt she was asking)_

He stared off into middle space for a moment before raising his brows. "A sparsely decorated house _(truth - Vera had taken quite a lot when she moved out)_ , a pile of held mail, and a corner office with a view of the Bay."

"And what about work itself? Why do you travel? You're not a doctor."

"No, I'm not," he shrugged. "I've been tasked with all of the things that the owner of the company doesn't care to do himself. Keeping abreast of the latest trends in biotech. Talent scouting. Seeing what other companies are up to." He drew one hand down her belly toward the juncture of her thighs, making her shiver in anticipation. It seemed she was in a constant state of readiness with him. "The sorts of things that could actually get the both of us in trouble if they find out we're anything _other_ than professional. We've been rather naughty, wouldn't you say?"

He dug his nose into her hair and inhaled deeply, the heady rush of her scent absolutely intoxicating. _(it was never like this with Vera)_

"We have been," she agreed, biting her lip as his hand traveled, still seeking.

"Perhaps this is all some clever ruse to gather intel on the competition," he said in husky whisper, trying to draw her in closer.

Anna narrowed her eyes and turned over in the bed toward him, fixing him with a hard stare. "You think I'm a spy, sent to steal your company's secrets?" She raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow and quirked her lips in defiance.

John smiled wickedly and pushed her onto her back, pinning her under him. "Who says _I'm_ not the spy? Corporate espionage with a seductive twist?" He waggled his eyebrows in jest.

"I'm fairly certain I seduced _you_ , Mister Bates," Anna said with a grin, then a gasp as his fingers finally found their target. She opened to him willingly.

"And I'm fairly certain I'm just that irresistible," he replied. "Come here." He began kissing her heatedly, and after few more words of breathy and playful banter _(punctuated by yesses and theres and like thats)_ , all talk of business was banished from their bed forever.

* * *

 _ **separate.**_

After two months of rendezvous and romps, they never tired of each other. Neither of them called it a relationship and neither of them said they were seeing anyone. They just... _were._

It had been over a month since they'd seen each other last, their travel schedules not meshing for the time being. He'd been to Toronto and Buffalo without her, she to Madrid without him.

 _(why research? he'd asked. why not open your own practice or work in a hospital?)_

He stared out of his window at San Francisco Bay, the Golden Gate Bridge just in his view. It was a great location where they were, close to a BART station that took him straight home to San Mateo _(Vera teased him mercilessly about his insistence on taking public transport)_ , to a beautiful modern house with a pool and a gate and not an ounce of love inside. There had been, once, a long time ago, when they were younger and more foolish. They married for the absolute wrong reasons, and now he was trapped, legally and financially. And when he closed his eyes at night _(and in the privacy of his office during the day),_ only Anna occupied his thoughts.

 _(I can't tell the children, or their parents, she'd replied sadly, that there's nothing we can do. That they never grow up. Never fall in love. It eats away at me. So I work so that someday other doctors don't have to suffer the same.)_

They exchanged text messages often, but rarely phone calls _(eight hour time differences were difficult - jet lag was also becoming an issue)_. Mostly to confirm that the other would be in the designated city on the designated day, but occasionally, just to say _hello_ or _I was thinking about you today_.

She kept all of his texts.

He deleted all of hers immediately, put a passcode and thumbprint lock on his phone, and never stored her number anywhere _(though he knew it forwards and backwards)_. He had to be careful for the time being.

"I wish you were here," John had said to her the last time they spoke on the phone a week ago _(never at the office or even at home, though there was a lovely park with a loud fountain nearby that he found himself taking long walks with his phone to his ear)_. "I need a fix of you. You're all I think about."

Anna shivered and sucked in a surprised breath, her chest hitching as she couldn't help but to smile. "I miss you too," she'd replied.

"Try not to miss me too much," John admonished playfully. "It'll be good practice."

She couldn't help herself though. She wanted him desperately, missed the intense conflagration they shared whenever they were together. Which was why when Robert sent out an email to her team asking if anyone wanted to go to Kaiser Permanente's Oakland headquarters to attend a seminar, she jumped at the chance. Surely a _professional_ office visit would be a lovely surprise.

This was a dangerous game they were playing.

 _(and today, she would leave the king undefended)_

* * *

 _ **desperate.**_

Anna stepped out of the sliding doors of the arrivals terminal of San Francisco International and into the rare warmth of a perfectly sunny day in Northern California. She flagged down a cabbie and tossed her single carry-on suitcase _(she'd become brutally efficient at packing)_ into the seat beside her. After verifying the address on her phone with the driver, they sped off, north on the 101, her stomach twisting and heart fluttering with every mile they went.

She knew it wasn't the best idea she'd ever had _(and normally she was not this impulsive, but he had a way of bringing that side out of her)_ , but here she was, walking into the lobby of Kent Pharmaceuticals and smiling politely at the receptionist. "Good afternoon," she said with a polite smile. "I'm here to see John Bates."

The receptionist smiled back and indicated a sign in book on the desk. "Of course," she said cheerfully as she picked up the phone. "Your name please?"

"Doctor Anna Smith," Anna replied, shifting her bag from one hand to the other as her stomach twisted and twirled.

A dark haired woman who happened to be passing by the open doorway stopped and frowned as the receptionist called John's office. Her face immediately settled into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. _(cold and calculating, a serpent measuring her prey)_

"Anna Smith, you say?" the woman asked, tilting her head slightly.

"That's right," Anna replied warmly.

The taller woman took three long strides toward her and extended her hand. Anna took it, expecting a welcoming handshake, but instead nearly cried out when the other woman's nails dug into the the back of her hand. _(a snake bite, she would later think to herself as she rubbed the red marks on her skin)_

"I'm Vera Bates," she said in a sickly sweet whisper. "John's _wife._ "


	4. venom-unhinged

**_venom._**

Her entire hand burned with an uncomfortable feeling. It crept up her arm, where it bloomed across her chest, creating knots in the pit of her stomach and pounding a furious beat in her head.

 _(the Black Mamba's bite is amongst the deadliest in the world. she is especially aggressive when cornered)_

"Mister Bates is away from his desk right now, Doctor Smith," Anna heard the receptionist say after setting the phone down. "If you'd like to wait or leave a message…" Her words trailed off as she seemed to sense the tension in the air.

Vera Bates had released her grip but not her focus. She stood up a good deal taller than Anna, her shoulders square and her expression one of barely contained hatred, all hidden behind an innocuous smile.

"I'll tell my Johnny you stopped by, _Miss_ Smith," Vera said flatly, before Anna could say anything. "I'm sure you have somewhere to be. You're a busy woman, what with all of the traveling you must do for Grantham Technologies."

 _(there is pain at the site of the bite, which spreads throughout the body. the victim will often experience vertigo, combined with muscle paralysis...)_

Anna forced a cheerful smile and a nod of her head, though her entire body felt wooden and sluggish, rooted in place. The room spun. "Thank you, Mrs. Bates," she replied in the steadiest voice she could manage. "I'm on my way up to Kaiser Permanente and just stopped in for a moment along the way. I'm only in town for the day. I'd best be getting on."

"Yes, you'd best."

Anna turned on her heel and heard nothing else but the roaring in her ears and the sharp _click click_ of her heels on the polished floor.

 _(the venom is a neurotoxin that races through the body, eventually causing shortness of breath...)_

Out into the warm sunshine and standing on a busy sidewalk, she gripped the nearest street sign and grit her teeth. She tried to even her breathing, remembering her yoga lessons even as she fought for control.

 _(blurriness of vision...)_

Tears finally broke down her face as she walked in an unknown direction. _(she wanted to run. It was so unlike her to want to run. she always stood her ground, but given the choice of fight or flight, she chose flight.)_

 _(restlessness…)_

She managed to hail a taxi and slipped into the back seat, mumbling the name of her hotel to the driver. The streets of San Francisco blurred and faded into nothing as the world around her went dark.

She should have known. She should have _fucking known_.

 _(the venom eventually causes the heart to stop, resulting in death)_

* * *

 ** _caged._**

John polished the apple left over from his lunch on the front of his shirt as he ducked back into his office, intent on shutting the door behind him and checking his phone for messages. She should be getting ready for bed around now, and though he was unable to get across the street to his favourite park and fountain today, he should be able to sneak in a quick call behind closed doors.

"Who is Anna Smith?"

Vera's presence in the corner of the office made him jump, betraying his thoughts. It angered him. That she was in his office _(they agreed that they would keep their distance at work, even as they put on a good show for the public)_ , that he let himself be affected by her at all, that he'd been surprised that she would ambush him.

He tried his best to contain his panic.

"Who?" he asked with a frown.

Vera huffed, crossing her legs and folding her hands on her knee. "Anna Smith," she repeated slowly, drawing out the _th_.

John shrugged and sat down at his desk, his hand subconsciously tracing the outline of his phone in his pants pocket before he stopped himself. "Hmm. Researcher, as I recall. Someone in the industry. I've spoken with her a few times at a couple of shows." He tried to sound nonchalant. "Why are you asking about her? She's nobody." _(she's...not nobody. no. but what was she?)_

Vera nodded and ran her tongue across the front of her teeth. "You had her business card in your jacket pocket a while back."

"What?" He thought back to their second meeting, and Anna telling him that she'd slipped her card into his pocket. He'd thought it had fallen out during the trip home, but now he remembered Vera's behaviour after he'd gotten back from Las Vegas, when she borrowed his jacket and left the house shortly thereafter. "I pick up a lot of cards at these things, Vera," he explained slowly, carefully. He made a show of flipping through a stack of papers on his desk.

 _(but how much did Vera know? how much_ _ **could**_ _she know?)_

She smiled and rose from her seat, striding over to him. Since he'd given up his occasional cigarettes completely, he'd noticed he could smell it on Vera even more sharply, and it disgusted him. She polluted the very air around her and he could almost _feel_ the air around her envelop him in a miasma as she leaned closer.

"She's a pretty little girl, Johnny," she whispered near his ear. "Not really your type, unless your tastes have changed. Rather young."

He met Vera's eyes for several seconds before her lips pulled upward humorlessly. She rose and looked around his office boldly _(calculating)_ , before leaving without another word.

John sat stone still for a count of thirty, until he knew she would be around the corner and gone, before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone.

 _(no messages)_

John ran one hand through his hair in consternation and grabbed his wallet from his desk drawer before leaving the office, not bothering with his bag or jacket. He needed air, he needed to call her, he needed to hear her voice. _(he needed her to tell him that she was somewhere safe and secure on the other side of the world and he was a silly beggar and that she couldn't wait to see him next week in Arlington)_

"Oh, Mister Bates?" the lobby receptionist called after him. "Did Mrs. Bates tell you about your visitor?"

He stopped dead in his tracks as a chill ran down his spine. "I'm sorry?" he said in a voice far too high for his comfort, not looking back.

"There was a Doctor Smith here earlier to see you. She talked to Mrs. Bates for a moment before she left."

 _(fuck.)_

John carefully guarded his features and turned toward the desk. "Shame that I missed her," he replied with false cheer. "Did she say if she would be back?"

Jane shrugged and offered him a pressed smile. _(could she smell the stain on him?)_ "She didn't. But she _did_ say she had a meeting up at Kaiser and would be in town for today only." _(there was something almost...sympathetic in her tone? anyone with ears and eyes and a brain in their head knew that he and Vera weren't happy. if anyone would know, it was Jane.)_

He murmured his thanks and escaped the building, waving his hand for a taxi as he dialed her number.

* * *

 ** _unhinged._**

She couldn't believe she flew five _-thousand_ miles for this. Seminar be damned, she flew five-thousand _fucking_ miles only to find out that the man she had been happily and enthusiastically shagging for the past several months was married.

 _(she'd been a foolish girl, getting herself get involved with a man who she really didn't even know)_

She tossed her soggy tissue into the wastebin and checked her makeup one more time in the bathroom mirror. She'd had enough time to get checked in, shower, and get dressed again in time to head over to Kaiser. _(and enough time to have a good cry in the shower)_

Every hair back in place and her game face on, she walked with purposeful _(don't fuck with me)_ strides down to the lobby. She nearly made it out of the revolving doors when a hand suddenly came up and stopped their heavy spinning.

 _(a hand with a wedding band on the third finger)_

"Anna," John pleaded as she pushed at the doors to get them moving again. _(she couldn't bear to look at him)_ "Anna, please…"

"Don't," she said quickly.

"I've been trying to call you," John called from behind her, his voice muffled inside a separate section of the doors. He held his phone up in the air as some sort of proof of his actions.

She made it outside the hotel before wheeling on him, taking him by surprise. He took a step backward in shock. "And I've nothing to say to you, Mister Bates," she replied, folding her arms across her chest. "Your wife said everything I needed to hear."

He sighed and looked down at the ground, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "It's not what you think," he said. _(that's what they always say. it's what Greg said when she'd found out he'd been seeing his ex on the side. it's what her friend's brother Alex told the police. it's what her stepfather said when she'd run to her mother for help as a child. it's. what. they._ always. _said.)_

"Look," she began, pinching the bridge of her nose in an effort to not cry. _(not again, not in front of him.)_ "We obviously had different ideas about what was going on between us." She paused as a man walked past, giving them both a knowing glance _(sorry chum, you're on your own, his eyes seemed to say to John)._

"You're married," she said finally. _(it wasn't a question)_ She glanced down at the silver band on his finger.

"I am," he admitted with a defeated slump of his shoulders. _(and he suddenly looked so much older than she remembered)_

"Then that's that," she declared, spreading her hands. "Not that you lied to me, but you didn't tell me, which is nearly as bad. I don't like being used." _(but it's far too late to put the evils back in the box, Pandora, darling)_

She couldn't tell if he was hurt because he was caught, or because she was rejecting him, or because he genuinely cared about her. Either way, John's eyes shone with guilt and sadness and anger and a hundred other emotions at once.

"We've been separated for five months now, two months before we even met," he said quietly. "And it's a great deal more complicated than just that, but if you don't want to hear it, I'll respect that." He spread his hands in surrender. "If you want me to go, I will. But I never wanted to hurt you. You don't deserve that."

Her eyes stung and she looked away, blaming it on the wind. "Well, you have," she confessed, her voice wavering.

John reached out, palm up, and she regarded it for a moment before slipping her hand into his. It was warm and welcoming and soft and she felt her heart instantly swell.

 _(and suddenly, this affair of convenience and lust became a real relationship, pain and all. it was time for an understanding between them.)_


	5. ruins

_**ruins.**_

John realized as they walked through a nearby park that he'd never seen Anna by the light of the sun before. Fluorescent, incandescent, halogen, even candlelight...but never the sun.

 _(and she rivaled its warmth and light)_

He'd shed his tie and rolled up his sleeves, while she had removed her heels and suit jacket as they walked in the Japanese Garden, her bare feet making not a sound as they glided across the lush carpet of well kept grass. Her skin was dappled by feather leaved maple trees that reached out to caress her in the breeze.

"How did you know what hotel I was staying in?" Anna asked, breaking the silence. They hadn't mentioned the elephant in the room since he'd offered her his hand. She'd taken it briefly, just enough to feel that spark between them, and then John suggested they take their discussion elsewhere.

 _(I'm known here, he'd said, in the city)_

John huffed quietly and shrugged his shoulders. "Jane said you were headed up here for a meeting and I knew you preferred Hilton hotels. Chance had it that yours was the first I checked." He stopped walking and looked over the top of her head at the lake. "And I was even luckier that you just happened to be coming out. I don't know how I was going to convince the front desk to violate guest privacy to find your room. Bribery crossed my mind."

She nodded and crossed her arms, waiting for him to continue, tapping her fingers against her bicep impatiently as her shoes dangled from her other hand.

John took a deep breath and let it out slowly _(time to explain himself)_. "Alright then. You deserve to know it all. Vera and I have been married for seven years," he began, looking anywhere but at her _(he didn't want to talk about the darkness of Vera when faced with the brightness that was Anna)_. "We were together off and on for another six years before that. We have a nice house, even if she's not there anymore _(especially since she's not living there anymore)._ It was good between us, in the beginning at least. We were talking about a family, the future."

 _(back when he was still in love with the fire and brimstone and the devil in her)_

John leaned forward on his elbows, flexing his knee slightly before settling in for the rest _(the knee that still ached every time he heard the squeal of tires in the rain)._ "When we got married, we already had a lot of problems. Emotional, financial...especially financial." He turned his head toward Anna, catching her eye. "We got married for the wrong reasons, and we're still married now for even worse. We, or at least I, thought that it would fix things between us. That somehow the ring and the paper would make us stronger. There was a lot more at stake than just the two of us, however."

Anna seemed to calculate something, her eyes darting back and forth slightly. "You have children?" she asked carefully.

John let out an explosive breath that was almost a laugh. "No, thankfully. We tried though, before we were married. But now I'm glad we aren't putting any children through this mess of ours." _(every month, she shook her head at him, and every month, he felt relief mixed with sadness. and then anger when he found the flat pack of pills in her purse.)_

He stood up and thrust his hands into his pockets, staring across the water of the lake. "Kent Pharmaceuticals was previously known as Bates Biomedical, and before that, it was Grantham-Bates Biotech."

Anna's expression changed slightly as she seemed to follow where he was going, rather, where he had been before. "Grantham, as in Grantham Technologies?"

"The same," John replied. "Robert and I were partners for a few years, but we went under when one of our projects went belly up and our investors pulled out. Robert's cousin offered to buy his stake in the company, while I was left keeping half of a sinking ship afloat." _(he was still bitter to this day that Robert had taken the easy way out and left John to clean up his messes. all of them, professional and personal.)_

"Vera and I weren't married then. We lived together. Her father caught wind of what was happening and offered to buy the company on one condition. That I made an honest woman of her. He's rather traditional."

"And you _did_ it?" Anna asked incredulously.

"Sounds foolish, doesn't it?" he admitted. "Truth be told, Vera wasn't keen on it either. But I had to think of the two hundred or so people who worked for me."

Anna's eyes seemed to soften in understanding. "I see," she said. "So Vera's father owns the company, you work for him, you're separated and heading for divorce. That's fairly complicated…"

"There's more," John said quickly. At Anna's gaping expression, he took another bracing breath before continuing. "Per the business agreement that we signed, Vera's father owns the company for ten years as part of his venture capitalist scheme. I have to stay married to Vera for those ten years, and then half of the company reverts back to me, and one percent per annum following so long as we're married. But for all of my efforts in trying to save everyone's jobs, Mister Kent tossed them all away. He relocated his new prize to San Francisco, meaning that most of my people weren't able to stay with the company anyway. And most of those who stayed on were let go within the next few years. So my efforts were essentially for nothing. He's made millions, and everyone I tried to save lost their jobs. He has no interest in medicine or helping anyone other than himself and his board of directors. He's greedy and manipulative, and Vera takes after him."

"You were being noble," Anna argued after a moment of silence.

John closed his eyes and scrubbed his mouth with one hand. "I was a bloody fool." He spread his hands helplessly. "I was desperate. And I thought I was in love. And even though she's living with another man now, the terms of the prenup dictate that only I can be at fault."

"Vera and I agreed to maintain the facade until the ten year mark, at which time I will give her a very large sum of money to agree to a divorce. Publicly, we're a happy couple, attending fundraisers and sitting in on board meetings. Privately, we can't even be in the same room together. I literally live at the mercy of my estranged wife and her father, who has no idea what's going on. If we're caught, I lose everything I have left."

John closed his eyes and swallowed thickly. _(regret tasted like bile and ashes)_ "I have to pretend to be in love with a woman who hasn't loved me in a very long time, who hasn't shared my bed in two years, much less my heart. An affair would ruin me. And Vera would find a way to ruin you as well. Your life, your career."

 _(oh, but there was such beauty in ruins, the flowered vines that crept up the stones, the worn edges of walls long crumbled giving purchase to new life)_

The knot in the pit of his stomach grew as he took in Anna's angry expression, the reddening of her cheeks and the glassiness of her eyes. "I should have been forthcoming with you about all of this," he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Anna let out a very undignified snort. "It's a little late for that, Mister Bates," she said hotly. "Don't you think?"

He stood in silence.

"I mean," Anna went on, standing up and taking one small step toward him. "Were you thinking about that the first night in Las Vegas?"

"No."

"Or the second night in Bonn?" She took another step toward him.

"No."

"What were you thinking in Chicago?" Another step. _(she was too close now, God help him he just wanted to reach out and touch her)_ "Or Boston? Tel Aviv? Or when you came to find me here?" Her eyes flashed icily, her jaw set in anger. "What were you _thinking?_ "

 _(the smell of her hair and the blue of her eyes, the sound of her softly snoring beside him, the sweet taste of her, the feel of her nails in his scalp, and how he never, ever wanted to let her go)_

"Always you," he said roughly, swaying closer to her. "You're all I've thought about for the past three months. And just now, I've thought about how I don't care if she knows. I'd give it all up, right now."

Anna ducked her head suddenly and turned away as if she'd been struck, covering her mouth with one small hand and sucking in a sharp breath. John reached out his hand, just brushing her sleeve, but she slipped away, running away with shoes still in hand.

"Anna?" he called after her, his feet rooted in place.

 _(and he was a broken statue left amongst the ruins as the columns crumbled and turned to dust)_


	6. blur-focus

_**blur.**_

John tossed the ring with such force that it left a mark on the wall before it fell into the ceramic bowl just inside the front door, clanging about with a cheap, tinny sound. Even if it was his real wedding band _(which was tossed into the depths of his sock drawer over a year ago)_ , he didn't care if he damaged it or not, or even where it ended up. Somehow it would give the infernal thing more character than it deserved.

He dropped his keys on top of the ring, then his wallet, before shambling into the living room and dropping onto the sofa, the frame groaning in protest under his bulk. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and punched his thighs with enough force to leave a mark. before leaning forward onto his elbows, grabbing fists of his hair and pressing against his nails into his scalp.

 _(anything to dull the ache)_

As he eyed the locked liquor cabinet across the room, he sighed and steadied his shaking hands.

 _(anything but that)_

Honestly, what did he think was going to happen? What did he expect? Did he think that Anna would just throw herself into his arms without a care for the ugly truth? It was so much easier a few hours ago, before she knew, before his lie by omission came to light. There was no denying at this point that they were in a complicated relationship, well beyond the point of casual, no-strings-attached sex in three to four star hotels when their schedules permitted.

He'd hurt her. And she was well within her rights to tell him to sod off and never speak to him again, and he would respect that.

But he knew that they would see each other again because of their careers. The idea of seeing her occasionally, knowing the hurt between them, sickened him. Not out of concern for his own feelings, but hers.

 _(the look that crossed her eyes as she turned away...loathing. for him, for her, for Vera. for what she probably saw as a mistake)_

He needed time. She needed space. Perhaps an infinite amount between them. With a heavy sigh, he scrolled through his phone contacts until he found the one he wanted.

"It's me," he said thickly. "I need you to cancel my next few trips. Just do it."

* * *

 _ **focus.**_

Anna squinted as she peered through the eyepiece, adjusting the knob until the slide was perfectly clear. The misshapen cells stood in sharp contrast to the healthy ones that surrounded them, their structure forever altered by the cancer that ate away at them.

 _(the more she thought about him, the more she felt her heart blacken and wither and crumble)_

She sighed and sat up straight, stretching her aching back and shoulders. This slide was a dud, just like the previous...hundred? Two hundred? Each time, the results were the same. The cancer cells divided and conquered until there was no room for the healthy cells to recover. She jotted down a few notes and closed the notebook beside her. She pinched the bridge of her nose and counted to ten.

 _(damn him. repeat ten times. breathe in. add a few more for good measure. damn him for not telling her, damn him for not giving her the choice of whether she wanted to carry on with a married man or not, damn him, damn him, damn him)_

"Jet lag still got you?" Mary called from behind her.

Anna blinked quickly to shake off the fog and put on a forced smile. "I suppose so," she replied as she stood up. "I haven't slept well in a few days."

Mary hummed in understanding _(she had no idea)_ and sat down at the computer desk beside Anna. "Same as the others?" she asked, indicating the glass slide full of broken hopes.

" _Same as it ever was,"_ Anna quoted as she flipped the light above the examination table off. "I can't help but wonder if I were to, I don't know, _work_ in the lab for more than a f _ew days a month_ , I could have cured cancer by now." She shrugged and rolled her shoulders again to ease the tension. "Probably AIDS and the common cold by now as well. I could've won a Nobel."

Her dark-haired research assistant snorted and rolled her eyes at Anna's exasperation. While she did enjoy being the public face of Grantham Technologies, she couldn't help but to wonder how long she could do it before she resented her medical degree being wasted with every mile she traveled _(and every foreign bed she slept in, encircled in the arms of…)_

"Stop it," Anna muttered to herself, shaking her head in frustration.

"I'm sorry?" Mary asked absently as she logged Anna's notes into the computer.

"Nothing," Anna said. "Just lost in my head for a moment."

"You're thinking about him again," Mary sing songed.

Anna's heart raced. _(how could she know?)_ "About who?" she said quickly.

Mary smiled and bobbed her head from side to side teasingly. "You know who." She grinned like a Cheshire Cat. " _Michael._ "

Anna rolled her eyes and scoffed at Mary. "I assure you, I am _not_ thinking about _Michael._ " _(and hadn't in weeks, although she had half a mind to look him up and see if he fancied a quick shag, just to get the feel of John off of her)_

"Oh."

 _(there was something in the way that Mary released that 'oh' that should have warned her)_

"So who _are_ you thinking about?" she pressed. "Who is he?"

"No one," Anna said quickly. _(wrong answer)_

Mary grinned broadly as she pushed herself across the floor on her swivel chair to look up at Anna expectantly. "What's his name?" she asked eagerly.

Anna bit her tongue and shook her head, looking down at the stack of paper in front of her. "He's no one," she reiterated. Then, after a moment, "It was...a one night stand," she lied easily. "A flash in the pan. Someone I met a while ago out of town. It was stupid."

 _(I was stupid)_

Mary tsked and tutted and her dark eyes softened in sympathy and secondhand shame. "Golly, you didn't end up with some randy old man after a night of drowning your sorrows at a hotel bar, did you?" At Anna's horrified expression, she clapped her hand over her mouth. "Oh...my God. You didn't."

 _(two glasses of chardonnay for her, a rum and coke and an Amstel for him, an accidental brush of fingers against bare skin and an apology, a darkening of eyes and quickening of pulse)_

Anna pressed her thumb and finger against her closed eyelids and winced. "Not like that, no," she said quickly. "It was good. He was terrific. It's just...complicated. So it's over and done with."

 _(unfamiliar touches and heady laughter illuminated by the light of neon through the window and a single bathroom light, reassurances that the other was willing and clean and perfectly sober, the tearing of foil and torturous groan ripped from his throat as she took both him and the proper precautions in hand, wanting the fullness of accepting him into her body…)_

She wanted no more of him. She didn't want it to be done with. And that confused and angered her.

 _(you have no idea what you want, Anna May)_

Mary said nothing more on the subject _(that day)_ and simply nodded and dropped her shoulders in finality. "Right, so, you fly to Arlington tomorrow?" she asked, confirming Anna's schedule.

"Right."

"Texas or Virginia?"

Anna blinked and looked up. "I don't even know," she said slowly. _(she was so tired from traveling all the time, yet red eyes and spotty room service were made better by the promise of the release of tension and swelling of emotions and the sound of a beating heart under her tired ears)_

"Well, are you flying into Dulles or Dallas?"

"You're joking, right?"

Mary laughed gently as she began putting the lab in order for the evening. "Don't worry, I double checked. Heathrow to JFK to Dulles. It's in Virginia, outside of Washington, D.C. Papa made that mistake once, you know. He was supposed to go to the same conference you're going to years ago, but flew to Texas instead. He was there an entire day before he realized his mistake. He insisted he could just rent a car and drive the distance between them. He wouldn't listen to Mama when she said that America is a very large place."

Anna had to laugh at the image of Robert Crawley driving endless miles with determination. She hung her lab coat up on the rack, eager to get home and pack for her trip.

"Him and his old business partner, John," Mary continued absently. "It took them over twenty-four hours, each of them driving a few hours while the other slept, but they made it in time for the conference."

Anna's heart raced and she looked anywhere but at Mary. _(John)_ "Terrific fellow," she rattled on. "Dreadful wife. Papa tried to talk him out of marrying her, but he insisted. I hope he's come to his senses by now. He deserves so much better…"

Mary's last words fell on deaf ears as Anna pushed her way out of the lab, her face burning hotly with shame and…

 _(breathless anticipation as he hovered over her, brushing back the hair from her eyes with a tenderness that she didn't expect, that she didn't know she craved, mouthing sincere 'you are so beautifuls' to her as her vision clouded with unshed tears that he couldn't see in the faint light, that she kept hidden from him when she gently pushed him away and turned over onto her front, encouraging him with a smile and a 'please' over her shoulder to continue, to help her forget...)_


	7. lost-found

_**lost.**_

Anna scanned the gathered crowd with her eyes every few seconds, looking _(hoping)_ for him. She could barely pay any attention to the speaker as he droned on about protein chains and cell counts for all of the neck craning and squinting she did. At the end of the day, her hands twisting in her lap, she sighed heavily and returned to her room upstairs, alone, to go to bed alone. Again.

 _(which is what she should have wanted)_

She tossed and turned every few minutes, staring at the clock with thinly veiled hatred _(for him, for her, for the infernal numbers that marched on)_. Around 2 o'clock in the morning, she gave up and slipped into a pair of pants and a t-shirt, toed her feet into her trainers, and headed down to the lobby. The place across the street was open late, just for people like herself _(awake, alone, and hungry)_. The streets were still slick with the torrents of rain that had deluged the city that day, remnants of a late summer storm that lashed the coast. The neon signs in the windows of her destination reflected on the asphalt, broken and distorted, with a thin sheen of oil and petrol. The storm had passed, but the skies were still angry.

He hadn't been in Arlington the following weekend, which she had been glad of. She wasn't sure if she was ready to see or talk to him so soon _(if ever)_. He also wasn't in Brussels or Baltimore, nor Leipzig or Lisbon. Her passport had four pages worth of stamps now, which she could divide into three stages in her life _(before, during, after John)_. Page five was looming, blank and questioning.

She smiled thankfully at the man who held the door open for her, who looked her up and down with appreciation _(and she quickly disregarded his attention)_. Bottles of every shape and size and color adorned the wall to the left, a few world weary patrons shuffled about, some together, most apart, all a blur to her. Near the back of the cramped space, she found her quarry, and after looking the selection over for a few moments, she made her decision.

The cashier barely looked up when she placed the carton of mint chocolate chip and package of plastic spoons on the counter. She handed him the seven dollars and murmured to keep the change _(she had an entire shoebox full of leftover money from her trips, what was thirty-eight cents?)_.

It was raining again when she jogged back across the street _(meteorologists were damned dirty liars)_ , and between having to dodge two taxis and getting splashed by a passing minivan, she was thoroughly soaked _(and pissed off)_ when she slipped into the hotel lobby. The sky had opened back up and the storm had returned.

Her shoes squeaked loudly on the polished floors that led to the lifts. She wanted nothing more than to get back upstairs, get out of her wet clothes and into her robe, and throw her diet out the window. John Bates himself could apparate before her and she wouldn't be deterred from her goal. Looking up from the floor, she did a little skip to dash into the nearest lift, turning sideways just as the doors closed and squeezing into the already occupied space.

"Anna?"

She nearly jumped out of her skin.

 _(apparently he could apparate)_

* * *

 _ **found.**_

She never looked more lovely to him than she did standing there before him, soaked and somewhat disheveled, rivulets of water running down her arms and hair plastered to her face, clutching a plastic grocery bag to her chest as she gaped open-mouthed at him.

"I didn't mean to frighten you," John quickly apologized, taking a step back into the corner of the lift. "I'm sorry."

Anna blinked and shook her head, looking away from him and tightening her grip on the bag. "You didn't, honestly," she stumbled over her words as she half-smiled, half-grimaced _(the frightened bird was back and could fly from her perch at any second)_. "You're just getting here now?"

He hefted his bag over his shoulder wearily. "My flight was cancelled because of the storm. So was the second one I booked. So yes, I just got in." He sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "I didn't know you'd be staying here. I'll go to the Hyatt down the street. That way you won't have to see me."

"Don't be silly," Anna said, frowning incredulously. "You don't have to go on account of me." _(she didn't want him to leave, but she didn't say she wanted to see him)_

He tried not to look at the way her chest rose and fell under the confines of the cream coloured shirt she wore as it clung to her figure, nor at the way her cheeks reddened and her pupils dilated, and he refused to recognize the two half steps she'd taken toward him as the lift ascended.

"I don't want you to be uncomfortable," he offered.

"I'm not."

They stood in silence, him grasping the well worn handle of his travel satchel, her squeezing the living daylights out of the plastic bag in her hand. The only sounds were the humming of the lift, the crinkle of the plastic, and the occasional heavy breath between them.

 _ding_

John swallowed and looked over the top of her head as the doors opened behind her. "Well then," he said quietly. "This is my floor."

She turned her head to glance at the panel, her brow knitting and her lips slightly parted, deep in thought. The doors stayed mutely open for a few seconds and then slowly closed.

Neither of them moved.

 _(neither of them blinked)_

"You said that this could ruin us both," Anna said quietly, looking at the wall beside him. "That she could find a way to ruin me."

John swallowed thickly, not daring to breathe. "Yes," he whispered.

"You didn't let me decide for myself if it was worth the risk to my career."

"No," he admitted regretfully. "I was selfish."

Her blue eyes narrowed and then widened as she looked up at him, fixating and flashing and sparkling. Her jaw set and her shoulders squared. _(the little sparrow became a raptor)_ "So am I," she said boldly. "Let her ruin me. _Let her try_."

His bag hit the floor as they collided in the small space, mouths slanting against each other and hands seeking to bless and mend and reclaim the other.

 _(and suddenly the lift felt as if it was falling, the weight of guilt washing away and the lightness of joy lifting them up, rendering them weightless)_


	8. ascent-nacent

_**ascent.**_

The lift descended at a rapid rate, fast enough that her stomach lurched _(or was that the flutter of butterflies and bile?)_. Anna clung to him as they kissed again and again and again, and nineteen floors wasn't enough to slake her thirst. John groaned against her mouth and pulled her close, his arousal already evident against her belly. She was just beginning to undress him in her mind when the lift slowed to a stop. They pulled away from each other in time for the doors to open, pressing themselves against the back wall and breathing heavily. She reached forward and punched the button for his floor, giving him a little wink and a smile. Soon the doors would close again and...

Some bastard stepped into the lift with them.

She hid a giggle behind her hand at John's annoyed sigh when the man turned around to face the doors, obviously blind to the fact that John was now covering his tented trousers with his bag and her hair had come somewhat loose from her ponytail. She bit her lip to swallow a gasp when she felt John's hand slide up under the hem of her t-shirt, dipping into the waistband of her jeans to caress the skin under the elastic of her knickers. She shivered when one finger traced the cleft of her buttocks and leaned backward to trap and still his hand against the wall, shooting a glare at him.

" _You just wait,"_ she mouthed at him.

He waggled his eyebrows back, a promise and a threat _(it seemed they were both in deep trouble)._

Finally _(after the longest thirty seconds of her life)_ , the lift stopped again and they pushed past the man and out into the corridor. "Nineteen-twelve," John rasped as he took her hand and led her toward their destination. He fumbled the keycard out of his pocket and cursed colourfully when it took four tries to get the door to finally open _(her hands all over him didn't help)._ They stumbled into the darkness, immediately seeking each other out, all hands and arms and thumping parcels.

"What...the hell...is in that bag?" John hissed between kisses. "It's cold."

Anna snorted and shook her head. "Mint chocolate chip," she replied, stealing another kiss. "I had another sort of need before you came along."

John returned her laugh and took the bag from her hand. "I think this room has an icebox," he muttered, turning on the light and looking around for a moment before tossing the offending confection into the small refrigerator under the minibar. He turned back to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "Come here," he husked as he dipped his head to hers. He pulled the elastic tie from her hair and shook the damp lengths loose.

Anna whimpered as they kissed _(and oh god, he could kiss)_ and backed up toward the bed, pulling him along with her. She fell backward and he fell atop her _(and everything was right again)._ She immediately reached for his belt buckle and John hissed when she slid one hand along his length

 _and_

 _then_

 _he_

 _stopped._

"What's wrong?" she asked, breathless and worried.

John sat up, his jaw square and lips pressed in a thin line. "I don't have a condom," he said after a moment. His face folded into a grimace as he waved his hand helplessly. "I didn't think that you and I would…" He let the words trail off and heaved a heavy sigh, his shoulder slumping. "That you'd want to see me again. After."

 _(oh)_

After a few seconds of consideration, Anna slid her arm along his shoulders and put her lips to his ear _(and let her hormones and emotions get the better of her)_. "I'm on birth control," she breathed as her nails ticked along the shoulder seam of his oxford shirt. "It's all right." She reached for his hand and laced her fingers with his.

John's eyes widened and his nostrils flared. His hand tightened around hers, then released, and tightened again. She could see him thinking about it, calculating and imagining. Finally, he shook his head and lifted her hand to his mouth, kissing her knuckles. "I trust you implicitly," he said carefully as he met her eyes. "But I think we need a backup. The consequences aren't something either of us is ready to deal with, let alone discuss right now, wouldn't you say?"

 _(the voice of reason and sanity in all of this reckless mess of theirs. she'd never been so impulsive in her life as she was with him. doctor anna may smith, what's gotten into you?)_

 _(him)_

"You're right," she resigned. She trailed her hand along his thigh and took her lower lip between her teeth, a smile blooming on her face. "There are other _things_ we could do tonight. We could always…" Her fingers slid over the diminishing rise of his trousers, a hint and an offer.

"We could always wait five minutes and I could run over to that shop across the street," he interrupted, looking at her pointedly. He leaned in and cupped the back of her head, fingers weaving through her hair, then pressed his lips against the shell of her ear. "I promise to make it well worth the wait," he said in a low rumble that shook her spine and tightened her belly. He drew his lips down the cord of her neck before stopping at her collarbone and giving her a quick kiss there.

Anna shivered and gasped and arched into him just as he stood up and adjusted his trousers, the dark fabric hiding the evidence of his arousal. He took a few bracing breaths, flexing his hands _(she was always drawn to his hands, all long digits that played at her like a piano)_. He leaned down and, with those wonderful hands, cupped her face to give her a lingering kiss that burned her from head to toe.

"Ten minutes," he growled against the corner of her mouth. "You'll have plenty of time get out of those wet clothes."

And then his spun on his heel and walked out the door before she could grab him and pull him back onto the bed with her.

Somewhere in that interminable time that he was gone, as she sat stock still and missing the warmth of him, she realized that she had to be as honest with him as he had finally been with her.

* * *

 _ **nascent.**_

He considered the champagne bottle in his hand carefully. It wasn't that he didn't drink anymore, in fact, he had the occasional beer or glass of wine during business dinners. And he'd had a little to drink the night that he and Anna had found themselves in bed together for the first time. It's just that it was…

 _...cheap_. Ten dollars worth of cheap. She deserved far better.

She also deserved better than the slightly wilted roses that he'd grabbed from the end of the aisle, probably leftover from a week ago. He sighed and fretted that their entire relationship _(yes, he could call it that now, but what should he call her? girlfriend?)_ had seemed cheap, set inside of hotel rooms and full of clandestine meetings and messages. He wanted to do things as right as they could, as long as she would let him. He wanted to take her to dinner and on walks in the park and to the theatre and everything a normal couple would do.

Would she be willing to wait another two and a half _years_ for him to be rid of Vera? Suddenly that seemed longer than eternity.

 _(mistress?)_

She deserved better than this. Better than him. But fate or God or the Devil himself had put them together again, and he wasn't one to back down from such serendipity. She was far more to him than a convenient place to lose himself. They were in a relationship now, that couldn't be denied. He scrubbed his face at the realization that he was quite possibly in love with her.

 _(lover? that sounded saccharine, but oh so decadent)_

Swallowing the lump that had risen in his throat, and his ardor completely quenched for the time being, he scanned the shelf behind the counter until he saw the brand he wanted. He indicated his choice to the tired looking clerk, who eyeballed him dubiously.

"I didn't misspeak, mate," John muttered, pulling out two twenties from his wallet _(cash was safe, credit was a risk, he'd vowed not to leave a trace of his distractions while on business)._

The clerk shrugged and handed over the gaudy box _(American brands weren't subtle in their sizing, were they?)_ , then squinted at John. "You British?" he asked.

"I am."

The clerk smiled and waggled his eyebrows. "There was a hot British chick in here earlier," he chuckled.

John felt his hackles raise, then his ego overpowered his jealousy. He took back his change and held up the box, tapping on it with one finger. "Yes, I know," he replied with a smirk. "Cheers." He didn't need to see the look on the clerk's face to feel the satisfaction that Anna was _his_ as he walked back to the hotel.

 _(everything? reason for carrying on every single day of his miserable life at home?)_

He hummed a little tune as the lift took him back upstairs to her and practically danced down the hall to the room. Keycard in one hand, cheap champagne, wilted roses, and prophylactics tucked under his other arm, he slipped into the room.

 _(anna. the name that carried the weight of his entire being.)_

She was seated on the bed, still clothed, in the same spot he'd left her in, except her legs were drawn up to her chest. Her arms were around her knees and she looked up, her eyes not meeting his as she fidgeted with her jeans.

"I figured you'd be under the covers by now," he quipped, setting down his purchases and waggling his eyebrows at her.

And then, with wide eyes and nervous hands, she said the three words that strike fear into the heart of every man when uttered by his lover.

" _We should talk."_


	9. balance

_**balance.**_

"Alright then."

She could see the colour drain from his face, the nervous tic of his eyes that betrayed his forced smile and calm words. Anna wrung her hands together and took a deep breath _(ten, nine, eight)_ then released _(seven, six, five, four)_.

"You've been honest with me," she said slowly, "about your wife and your situation and all. I owe you the same."

John swallowed, his Adam's Apple bobbing up and down. He blinked one, two, three times, then set the bouquet of red roses with blackened tips _(oh god, he brought her flowers, why was he so terrific?)_ down on the television console, along with a tall paper bag that made a thud distinctly like a bottle of wine.

"Should I sit down?" he asked, one cheek pulling upward nervously.

"If you want. Probably. Yes."

The other cheek joined its mirror twin as he smiled and he sat down on the end of the bed, as far away from her as he could on the expansive mattress. Anna unfolded her legs and swung them out over the edge until she had her feet on the floor, and there they sat, side by side, for several seconds before she began.

"That first night with you," she recalled. "It was _wonderful_. And it's been wonderful ever since. Part of me thinks it's been so wonderful because you were new and it was exciting to be with someone else."

"But I'm not new and exciting anymore, am I?" John asked, more than a hint of bitterness in his voice.

"No, no, it's not that." Anna shook her head and reached out to touch his shoulder just for a moment. "What I mean to say, is that I...was in a serious relationship until just before we met."

John's eyebrows shot up and he let out an explosive breath. Then he began laughing. "I thought you were going to tell me that you were married as well, and he was going to burst through the door any moment."

She fell silent, her mouth slightly open and tears threatening to spill over.

All traces of humour left John's expression, replaced by something she couldn't quite suss out. _(regret? pride? possessiveness? compassion?)_ "Anna?" he asked, taking her hand in his. "What's this about?"

"I was with someone," she whispered. "We'd decided to take a break to clear our heads. And then I met you."

 _(somehow the exact phrase 'you fucked him out of my system' didn't seem appropriate, but the sentiment was there.)_

"Michael and I had been together since uni," Anna began after extricating her hand from his and closing her eyes. "It was good. _We_ were good. He's a few years older, so he took a job as a shift doctor in the A &E at St. Mary's while I finished my schooling _(they were so young and full of ambition and dreams or three beautiful blonde children and a house in the countryside with big bedrooms and an old stone fireplace)._ You know how insane the A &E work can be. Gone all hours of the day and night, and when you're home, you can be called away in an instant. In fact, his second week there, 7/7 happened. He treated some of the wounded."

"Christ," John muttered. "I'm sorry he had to go through that."

Anna grimaced _(the memory of frantic phone calls and lack of communication haunted her still, having seen on the news that the train he normally took to work was one of the targets)_. "Anyway, he had his work at St. Mary's, and a couple years later, when I got my doctorate, I landed a research position at Grantham. He swore he would seek a transfer into neurology, which was his specialty, but he never did it. He loved the thrill of A &E. And I was always waiting at home for him, when he occasionally came home. He spent a lot of time off shift at the hospital, sleeping in the staff bunks. Or he'd go crash at a friend's flat nearby, so he could be close to the hospital."

"Then Mr. Crawley offered me the liaison position. It meant traveling all over the world and meeting people and learning all about new treatments and breakthroughs first hand from the researchers who had discovered them. I took the position without much thought and flew out almost immediately to Paris." She smiled at the memory of seeing the Eiffel Tower far, far in the distance if she stood on her toes and craned her neck from her small hotel room. "I'm from a small town in Yorkshire. London was as far as I'd ever been."

"Must have been exciting for you," John said with a gentle smile.

"It was. For the first time, _I_ was excited about _my_ career. I was thrilled. Michael far less so." She shrugged and played with a loose string on the bedspread. "I wasn't there as much as he'd become accustomed to. No matter how chaotic work was, he had me at home to ground him. Initially, he was supportive, but we saw far less of each other than we used to. Not seeing him for a day or two when he was on a long rota became a week or more. We decided to get married, as if a piece of paper could fix things."

The kind smile in John's eyes flickered in confusion as he searched her face for answers to questions that he must have had. "Go on," he whispered.

"We were going to elope first and have a big ceremony later. We didn't tell anyone that we were going to do it. I wasn't even going to invite my mother. Just me and him and the clerk at city hall. But we realized it wouldn't have worked, getting married. We started to resent each other. The separation. The long hours. We didn't have a relationship anymore. We didn't even have a _life_ together. Even though we'd started talking about having children, I stayed on the pill to make sure we didn't make a mistake that we couldn't take back _(not that they hadn't had days at a time when she was late and they wondered, but the tests stayed negative)_. Both of us started considering other options in life." She smiled wryly. She wasn't so sure he hadn't been more than _considering_ his options. "We mutually agreed that it was over, but we weren't opposed to still seeing each other on the side for a while."

"So you see," Anna pushed on quickly, her voice quavering. "I've been a bit of a hypocrite when it came to learning about you and Vera _(saying her name brought humanity to a woman she had no right to hate, despite what had happened)_. It brought out a lot of feelings I wasn't prepared to deal with. Michael had just moved out right before I met you. In fact, the entire time we were...you and I...were _together_ that night, he was trying to get ahold of me. We were probably going to try to work things out. In fact, we'd have been married by now if I hadn't met you. I'm not one to act rashly or impulsively, except when it came to you. One night stands, blowing off work commitments, that's not me. Except that now it is, because of you."

"Anna, I…"

She interrupted him. "Please, let me finish, Mr. Bates," she rasped _(if she stopped now, she would never be able to say it)._ Her eyes began burning as she fought back tears. "My changing isn't a bad thing. I rather like what's been happening. I'm a different person these past few months. I like her. She has fire and wants and needs and her own life, and right now, I _want_ and _need_ you in my life, even if we can only see each other like this. I certainly hadn't expected all of this to come out of that first night together, but I have to tell you that night _(that wonderful, passionate night)_ , changed me. But I used you. To forget him. To move on."

John closed his eyes and breathed outward slowly. He didn't look at her, didn't offer her the comfort she so desperately craved right now. _(hold me, that's all I want right now)_. She began to tremble.

"I ruined your future with him," he whispered.

Anna shook her head. "We were already too far gone," she tried to assure him. _(there was no saving what was already shattered.)_ "And I made very a conscious decision to sleep with you. That was my choice."

John sat completely still and deadly silent, not a muscle twitching or a hair stirring on his head as he stared at the far wall. Anna's heart sank low in her _(falling and shrinking and failing)_ and twin tears broke away and coursed down her cheeks as she focused on the sadly wilted bouquet of flowers _(which were so grossly appropriate)._

"You _used_ me," he finally whispered.

Her head dipped low.

" _You_...used _me_...for _sex_." _(his emphasis changed)_

"Yes."

He suddenly burst out laughing, so loud and so quickly that she startled. He turned red rimmed eyes to her, his cheeks tight and teeth bared in mirth.

It was the last thing she expected him to do _(yell, be silent, storm out, throw something, but not laugh)._ He laughed so hard that she felt herself quaking with the beginning of her own laughter and the giggles poured out of her.

"I've never been so happy to have been used," he said between laughs. "I think that's _pride_ I'm feeling right now. I hope to continue to be your most humble servant."

Anna smacked him on the shoulder and he carefully raised one hand, palm outstretched. She took his invitation and laced her fingers with his, the heat of his skin searing hers as their palms pressed together. The air felt cleaner now with the weight of her own secret off her shoulders.

"You changed me as well," John whispered, his face softening. "You made me realize that there's more to what life I had before." He brushed the hair back from her temple and she leaned into his touch. "I wish we could have more time together, but this is what we have to work with. So, Doctor Smith, do we continue as we have been, having clandestine shags in hotel rooms for convenience, or do we become something more?"

"I'm hoping for more," Anna breathed. "So much more." _(and suddenly the little happy blonde children she'd always imagined became brunette and brooding but no less beautiful)_

"Me too."

The kiss they shared was one of acceptance, of passion, of promise. They fell to the bed together, but instead of the frantic undressing and coupling they'd originally intended, they simply held each other until they fell asleep, fully clothed, but for the first time completely bared to the other.

 _(it was the first of many nights when all they gave and all they took was each other's company. the gaudy box, the warm champagne, and the pitiful roses could wait another night)_


	10. sanctuary-marvel

**_sanctuary._**

They awakened far later than the city below them. With the darkening curtains drawn, his hotel room was a haven, with yellow light filtering through the thick cloth and bathing them in a soft glow as they stirred, late, late in the morning.

Lying on her side, with John tucked behind her _(soft and welcoming in all of the right places, hard and demanding in the one place that mattered)_ , Anna smiled and arched her back, feeling the pops and crackles from a long night when neither of them dared to move. His arm was draped over her middle and after a few moments, his hand began lazy explorations _(to seek, to discover, to reclaim)_ under the cotton hem of her shirt. She bit her lip and relished in the sensation for a few moments before she slowly turned onto her back, encouraging him with a smile to continue. John grinned sleepily, his face puffy with exhaustion and darkened with stubble. He moved over her without a word, and Anna turned her head to the side as his lips grazed the hollow of her neck. She blinked the sleep from her eyes and focused on the clock.

The numbers advanced one minute to 9:02.

"Oh, shit!" Anna exclaimed as she pushed her very confused lover to one side and slid out from under him.

"Anna?" John rasped. "What's wrong?"

She began looking around for her shoes. "I have to give a talk at half nine," she fretted, dropping to her knees to look for her second shoe _(honestly, the entire room was maybe 50 square meters, where the hell could it have gone?)_. "I won't have time for a shower or breakfast. At least I got all of my notes ready last night. Damn it all, where could it have gotten to?"

John smirked as he held her lost trainer up with one finger hooked in the heel. "Tucked between the bed and the nightstand," he explained, shifting his weight to sit on the edge of the bed.

Anna sighed in relief and slipped into her shoes, then patted her pockets for her phone _(check)_ and room key _(check)._ One last glance around the room and her eyes fell upon the forlorn roses and paper bag wrapped bottle. She drew in a breath and then sighed heavily.

 _(they were real and he was here and they were together again and they were a **they** now)_

John pawed at her waist and pulled her toward him, wrapping his arms around her upper thighs. He nosed the hem of her shirt upward and kissed the skin above her waistline. "Have dinner with me tonight," he mumbled into the gooseflesh he created. "Not room service or the hotel restaurant. Let me take you out someplace special, take you out on a date, good and proper." His hands splayed across the small of her back as he pressed his forehead into her middle, craning his neck downward _(praying, worshipping, thanking)._

Anna's fingernails dug into his scalp and moved in widening circles that made him groan. She blinked away tears _(and the cliched reply that anywhere with him was special)_ as her face turned hot. She feared that she would fall back into bed with him and never leave, yet she took the risk of bending at her waist and pressing her lips to his briefly.

"To be continued," she whispered against his mouth. "I'm in twenty-one nineteen. Seven thirty?"

"I can't wait," he smiled in return.

"It's a date then," she said simply _(their first, although most couples dated first,_ then _shagged like rabbits)._

 _(they were a **they** )_

* * *

 ** _marvel._**

Somehow, in the span of twenty-odd minutes, Anna had managed to get to her room, change clothes, put on makeup, do her hair, gather her laptop and notes, get downstairs to the _(overly touted)_ Grand Conference Room 1B, and begin her presentation on Grantham Technologies' latest discoveries in the fight against colorectal cancer. Subject matter aside _(and it certainly wasn't his particular field of interest, but she presented it with such a passion that he made a note in his phone to schedule a screening with his doctor)_ , he found her engaging, informative, and authoritative.

 _(she was marvelous)_

He wasn't supposed to be at that particular talk, but he quietly slipped into the small conference room and took a seat in the back. She gave him a single glance out of the corner of her eye and drummed her nails once on the podium, but that was her single acknowledgement of his presence. Afterward, she was pulled aside by several of her colleagues, so John managed to catch her eye once and give her a lopsided smile before ducking out.

His time spent traveling for Kent Pharmaceuticals wasn't simply a cover for his affair with Anna. He had to meet with a potential candidate for a position within the company that afternoon. Much of what was done in his capacity as a recruiter was to stake out the competition and try to lure them away from their employers. Of course, there was always the issue of non-disclosure agreements, contract fulfillment, and corporate espionage, but he was always careful to dot his Is and cross his Ts and assure that everything was on the up and up.

He considered himself a good judge of character. As he listened to the charming young doctor spell out his qualifications and grandiose plan for the future of medicine, John decided that Anthony Gillingham would not be recommended for advancement in the hiring process. He let the fellow down gently, though he could tell he was slightly peeved. He was far too cocky and a bit swarmy, and quite frankly, John did _not_ like the way the man looked at Anna when she walked through the hotel restaurant on her way to her room.

 _(he tried to remain objective, he really did, but the man crossed a line. you shouldn't openly ogle a woman and make a slightly crude remark when you're in the middle of a professional interview, no matter how good her ass looked in that blue skirt. it didn't matter that that skirt would be on the floor of his hotel room in a matter of hours. there are just certain things you don't do in an interview.)_

John made promises to be in touch with the failed candidate should things change, shook his hand, and handed over his business card. He puttered around in the lobby for a while, then took a walk down the block to run some errands, all to pass the time.

Evening approached both far too quickly and at a snail's pace. John made all of the necessary preparations in advance and then went about the business of making sure he was perfectly shaved and freshened for later. He hadn't seen her since she'd walked through the restaurant around two in the afternoon. He could only presume she was making the same sorts of preparations he was _(and that thought was maddening and distracting and almost forced him back to the shower)._

Eventually, he appeared before room twenty-one nineteen, precisely at 7:30, and knocked on the door _(did he knock too fast? too nervously? too loud? too soft? three is a good number. how long should he wait to knock again?)_.

Every thought in his mind slid out of his ears and puddled to the floor when Anna opened the door. She wore the same azure skirt from earlier, but had shed the charcoal blazer in favor of a white button down shirt that tantalized and tugged and accented every curve of her. The quick updo she'd had in the morning was gone, and her hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders.

"Hello," he finally breathed _(with what had to be the goofiest grin he'd ever smiled)._

"Mr. Bates," she replied, drawing out his name just the way he adored. "I didn't know if I'd be underdressed or over," she laughed nervously, tugging at one ear. "But we had the same idea, it seems."

John smoothed one hand down his blazer, having forgone the tie in favor of an open collar. "You look absolutely stunning, and I feel terribly unkempt," he replied. He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, pausing a second to breathe in the scent of her. "I'll give you fair warning next time if we need to step it up, however."

Anna playfully slapped at his upper arm before taking his lapels in both hands and looking him up and down appreciatively. "Are you sure you don't want to order in tonight?" she asked cheekily _(she was doing that thing with her eyelashes when she looked up at him, and he was nearly lost)._

"So, _so_ tempting," John replied with a mock groan. "But I've made us reservations. Shall we?" He offered his arm to her.

 _(and when she stepped across that threshold on his arm, in a city of millions where no one knew them, suddenly they became a couple to the world and to anyone who saw them, including one anthony gillingham)_


	11. reality-fiction

**_reality._**

For their first real date, John took her to a three star Michelin restaurant _(how he managed a reservation when the restaurant normally had a month-long wait was beyond her)_ , where she ate almost to excess and protested when he pulled several crisp hundred dollar bills out of his wallet to pay for it _(that he was apparently very well off had not really crossed her mind, but now it made her slightly uncomfortable)_. Afterward, cheekily asked her to buy him a vanilla ice cream cone from a little shop on the way back to the hotel. They shared several long, dreamy kisses as preludes to the night ahead, not caring about the world that went on around them _(or the taxi stopped at the light with the forlorn young doctor who instantly recognized John, but couldn't quite place the petite blonde with him before the light turned green)_.

Back at the hotel, John whispered hotly in her ear that they should go back to his room, where he opened the door to reveal two dozen roses, a bottle of _good_ champagne on ice, and two glasses _(the concierge did well and would be tipped handsomely, John had said)._ They managed one glass of champagne each before she settled on her knees in front of him and drew his zipper down. With his hands buried in her hair and on the edge of losing control, he gently begged her to stop _(please don't stop, stop, please)_ , and moved with her to the bed, discarding the rest of their clothing along the way. He lay back on her command and let her take her pleasure of him willingly, until she could no longer move for the quaking of her hips and the weakness in her limbs. He carefully rolled them over and _(with reverence and wonder in his eyes)_ slowly moved within her until he finished with a soft exhale of her name.

They slept for several hours _(warm and safe and content)_ before she awakened to the sensation of his lips and early morning stubble low on her belly and his hands teasing her thighs apart. He brought her once, twice, over the edge before moving back upward to ply her lips open with kisses that tasted of her own sweetness. He pushed into her slowly _(infuriatingly)_ again, and she closed her eyes at the bliss and the tenderness of it all.

 _(she knew that she loved him, deeply and truly, but the emotions were too new, too raw to speak aloud. her heart hurt from all of the love it held within. she didn't know when it happened, it was just..._ there. _)_

Every other parting between them had been over the thresholds of hotel doors, with smiles and quick kisses and glances at schedules on their phones. This one was different _(and painful)_. They shared a cab to the airport in silence, his arm draped around her shoulder and her head tucked against his chest as the early morning traffic whizzed by them. At the juncture of domestic and international, they stood in the swirl of travelers and those left behind and kissed without a care for who saw and snickered.

 _(she had half a mind to tell him then, but she stopped. not here. not in the face of the sadness of leaving him again.)_

She could see he was thinking carefully about something during their last few moments in each other's presence. "What is it?" she whispered, plucking a bit of lint from his jacket lapel.

He looked over the top of her head at the departures board. "I'll be in London the week after Christmas visiting my mother," he told her finally, after working his jaw back and forth. "Through the New Year. I know we agreed to keep our distance when we're in each other's cities…"

She kissed him fervently and pulled him in close _(that she could crawl into the circle of his arms and live forever…)_. "I'd be gutted if I knew you were that close to me and so far away," she whispered into his chest, dangerously close to tears. They said their goodbyes and stepped back, holding hands until their bodies were too far apart to touch, and only then did they let their limbs go slack and their hearts sink.

They lived for these few days together, when they were different people only for each other. His thumb played at the indentation of skin on his third finger when he thought of her. She began keeping a small planter of peach coloured roses on her balcony, the same shade as the ones he had sent to her the day after she returned home. He'd made a note of the perfume she wore and bought a bottle of it that he kept in his nightstand _(in a hidden compartment that held a combination locked firebox with his important documents, where Vera would never find it)._ She had a day planner with his tenth wedding anniversary circled a dozen times in red ink, nearly two and a half years away _(god willing she could survive that far)_.

They would see each other again in nineteen days, again in Boston, then a week later in Oslo. That would carry them through November. They would have to make do with phone calls and texts _(she told him she didn't care what time it was where she was, if he wanted to call her, he could. and he did.)_ in the interim. He found his old iPhone and bought a prepaid card for it, solely to talk to her without there being a record on his primary line. She convinced him to download Skype and put a strong password on it _(they laughed nervously at the idea of putting on a show for each other, but never committed to it. not yet)_.

They lived separate lives but had become woven together like the tightest cloth. _I miss yous_ and _I wish you were heres_ became punctuation. _Soon_ and _next week_ and _until then_ became prepositions to link the days between them.

In early December, when she was in Miami, and he was in Tampa, he surprised her by renting a car and driving over five hours in rush hour traffic to spend a mere two hours with her before she flew home _(he was white-knuckled and shaking when he arrived and told her he hadn't driven since the accident that shattered his knee and gave him his scar and his limp and an unhealthy dose of PTSD)_. They didn't even get a chance to get to her hotel room, which was several blocks away, but they took a long walk along the beach hand in hand with their shoes dangling between them. It was more than enough to be together, even for that little while.

Instead of _I love yous_ , they spoke in code. _Let me know when you're home, else I'll worry. Be safe, be safe. I'm yours. You're mine_.

* * *

 ** _fiction._**

December plodded along slowly, despite the advertisements to the contrary _(nine more shopping days until Christmas!)_. John would arrive in London on the 27th and stay through the 4th of January. His mother had recently sold her home and moved into a high rise retirement community, so instead of staying with her as he usually did, he would rent a hotel room a few miles away. This suited him quite well as he wasn't keen on explaining his nightly absences to his eighty-two year old mother, nor why he was sneaking a beautiful young woman up to his boyhood bedroom. She had barely tolerated Vera when their relationship was good, but she was still an old fashioned Irish Catholic woman who believed that marriage was sacred _(despite her own having been so miserable)_.

Before he could go to London, he had the business of maintaining appearances with Vera as the holidays approached. They always put on a good face with each other at work _(except behind closed doors)_ , even acting pleasant when they needed to be. There was always the underlying tension between them. They both wanted out of the marriage, but neither would blink first _(Fredric Kent had made his own promises to his daughter involving calendar dates and bank accounts)_. She had as much to lose as John did. So they put on a good show between them.

They had the especially stressful task of pretending to be a happily married couple for the benefit of her father when he visited the week before Christmas. Luckily, he preferred to stay in five star hotels over his daughter and son-in-law's _(supposed)_ house, so the need to fool him domestically was avoided. They only had to pretend to be happy away from work for one night, when they met Fredric at his hotel restaurant. He presented them both with envelopes containing certificates for a hundred shares each of company stock _(not that John scoffed at essentially getting close to ten-thousand in cash from the old man, but a little more thought would have been nice)_ inside generic Christmas cards signed by Fredric's secretary _(John knew the man's signature well enough to know that the flourish of the F in 'father' was all wrong)._ They kept the discussion neutral, mostly about business and Fredric's travels abroad, and managed to avoid any uncomfortable questions _(at least he'd stopped pestering them about children finally)_.

Regardless, John was especially careful, even more so than normal. He pulled his genuine wedding band out of the drawer just in case Fredric had an eye for how the metal was cut. He went completely no contact with Anna for the duration of the visit, which she understood _(or at least she said she did)._ He tried to fight back the revulsion he felt when Vera drew her hands across his shoulders and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek when she joined John and Fredric for tea in the office.

He felt like he was cheating on Anna _(strange for a married man to be cheating on his mistress with his wife, but that's what it was)_.

To her credit, Vera was just as annoyed by it all. They seemed to have reached an understanding, even if she didn't know that he'd been seeing Anna again _(if she ever really knew to begin with)._ She'd toned down the vitriol in her voice when she spoke with him privately. It was almost as if she was being genuinely... _civil._ She smiled openly when he walked past her in the office, and after a while John came to the sickening realization that week as to _why._

On December 21st, just before the office shut down for the year, his father-in-law announced in front of a gathering of disinterested employees that Vera's lover Rick _(with his perfectly tailored suits and two-hundred dollar haircuts)_ was being promoted to Director of Sales for all of North America _(a very high six figure position to John's mid)_. John became incensed when Rick sought his eyes out in the crowd and gave John a look that said _I took your wife, and I'll take your company._ Rick now outranked him, and John knew full well that the fastest route to CEO was through Director of Sales. And even if John managed to stick it out long enough to get partial ownership back, he could be bought out for pennies on the dollar and forced out by the board. A board potentially influenced and led by Rick, that Vera also sat on. He was outnumbered.

 _I think that Rick is the best fit for the company's future,_ Fredric had said in his booming Scottish baritone before leaving for the airport in a company limo without so much as speaking to John about the matter.

Vera was just as smug as her lover about it all, especially since she'd apparently been talking him up to her father for months without letting on that she was sleeping with him, let alone _living_ with him. Perhaps she saw the trajectory that Rick was on and sought him out. Or maybe Rick saw the weakness in John and Vera's marriage and decided that the best way to the top was via the boss's daughter. Their marriage had been broken long before Rick came into the picture, but it hadn't taken long for him to sweep up those shattered pieces and create his own mosaic.

Rick Carlisle was a calculating son of a bitch. And he was dangerous. He knew the stakes involved and would take any actions necessary to ensure that he would win in the end.

John had backed down over Vera. He wouldn't back down over his company.

 _(not until he had no other choice)_


	12. snare

_**snare.**_

An entire month.

It had been an entire month since she'd seen him through anything but a laptop screen _(skype was a like taking a sip of water in the middle of the sahara)_ , let alone touched him, so by the time the holiday break rolled around, she was practically shaking in anticipation.

"You seem distracted," Mary said to her as they closed up the lab for the holiday.

"Do I?" Anna said quickly, her lips twitching upward and betraying her thoughts.

Mary's eyebrows arched upward and she gave Anna her best eyeroll. "Would it have anything to do with that fellow who texted you this morning?" she asked teasingly.

 _(shit. she thought she'd been careful.)_

"I don't mean to pry," Mary went on, "but I saw some rather _interesting_ messages pop up this morning when I got in. You left your phone on the bench when you went to the loo."

 _(oh god. john had been texting her all of the things he wanted to do with her when he got there, and he didn't mean taking her to the cinema, either.)_

Mary wheeled her chair across the lab toward Anna. "So, who is he?" she asked breathlessly. "Who is this mysterious _'JB'_?"

"You know, you complain about your _sister_ being a nosy busybody," Anna snipped in irritation.

"I'm just curious," Mary whined, rolling her eyes.

Anna sighed as she realized that Mary would not relent. They were friends and had spent some time together outside of work over the years, so Anna knew that Mary meant her no malice. She was genuinely curious as a friend, especially since she'd been trying to set Anna up with no less than five men that she knew in the past few months _(all were charismatic, rather attractive fellows with chiseled bodies and smiles to match, but none of them would even hold a candle to her quiet gentleman with the soft middle, greying hair, and reserved smile)_.

Anna closed her eyes and sighed. "He's the same man I met at the Las Vegas conference in April," she said finally. "We reconnected a while ago, and we've been seeing each other ever since."

Mary was practically giddy in her pursuit of details. "Is he local?" she pressed.

"No," Anna replied carefully. "It's a long distance thing."

"Pity," Mary griped. "If I had a man who would do _half_ of the things he promised you, I'd move to _Mongolia_ for him if he asked." She leaned on her hand and sighed dramatically.

Anna snorted and blushed crimson. _(yes, the texts had been_ very _detailed.)_ "It's not as simple as that," Anna said sadly. "But he'll be in town for a few days after Christmas, at least. It will be nice to-"

"I'm sorry, am I interrupting?" a man called from the door to the lab.

Mary instantly perked up and spun in her chair. "Doctor Gillingham!" she greeted the dark-haired man cheerfully.

"Tony, please," he suggested, giving her a charming smile that screamed _flirt_ to Anna. She'd heard of the newly hired infectious diseases researcher but hadn't met him yet.

Mary was practically _preening_ as he entered the room. Anna simply spun in her seat and went about shutting down her computer, since he only had eyes for Mary. She watched the two of them quietly speaking to each other with heads bent low and voices barely above a whisper _(yet again, mary was throwing herself at another man in an attempt to find the magic she'd had with her late husband. charles, henry, evelyn...she flitted about like a bee on a bouquet)._

"Anna, have you met Doctor Tony Gillingham yet?" Mary called to her.

Anna put on a nice smile and extended her hand. "I haven't had the pleasure. Doctor Anna Smith," she offered.

"Lovely to meet you." He politely shook her hand, but let it linger for a second before letting go. "You seem rather familiar, Doctor," he said slowly, his dark eyes narrowing shrewdly. "Did you study at Cambridge?" _(he_ would _have gone to cambridge. he reeked of privilege and peerage.)_

"Leeds," Anna replied quickly as he dropped his hand from hers.

He frowned and relaxed his shoulders _(how middle class of you, his posture said for him)_. "I must be confusing you with someone else," he apologized. "It's terrific to meet you though, and to see you again, Mary."

"Indeed," Mary crooned. "Have you a few minutes to stay and chat?"

"I wish I did," he replied with a smile and batting eyelashes _(she wanted to roll her eyes)._ "But I must be getting on. I was on my way down to Human Resources to fill out some paperwork before calling it a day. I'll see you sometime after the new year, I hope. Have a nice holiday."

"Likewise," Anna said politely as Mary practically shouted "Absolutely! Happy Christmas!"

Anna popped Mary on the upper arm when Tony turned to leave the lab. Both of them held back their giggles, their shoulders shaking and cheeks burning. "He's not bad," Anna whispered to her friend.

Mary blushed and bit her lip. "He's _yummy_ ," she gushed.

 _(cue gag reflex)_

"Oh, Doctor Smith," Tony called from the doorway, startling them both. "I've just remembered where I've seen you before." 

"Have you now?"

He held one finger up, tapping the air and smiling mysteriously _(smugly even)._ "Were you at a conference in New York City around late October?"

Anna frowned and nodded _(the trips were a blur, except for the moments she was with john)_. "I was. I gave a presentation on Grantham's colon cancer advances. Did you see me then?"

Tony chuckled and raised his brows. He placed his hands on his hips and shook his head. "No, I didn't see your presentation, but I did see you _with_ someone. John Bates from Kent Pharmaceuticals? I met him there for an interview before I was hired here instead."

Anna's stomach dropped and her throat tightened. She steeled her expression and smiled back sweetly. "I know him," she said carefully.

Tony snorted and ducked his head, licking his lips. "Very well, it seems," he drawled. His dark eyes flashed in amusement and accusation.

 _(fuck bollocks shit shit shit fuck shit)_

"He's a friend," she clarified flatly, maintaining a polite smile. "We dated a long time ago and he was hoping to rekindle things. I let him down without breaking his heart."

"Poor fellow," he grunted. "He must be devastated."

"Anyway, Doctor Gillingham, Human Resources will be closing in just a few minutes. You should hurry," Anna said firmly, dismissing both him and the subject. She squared her shoulders and gave him a glare that said she was not to be trifled with.

He gave them both a little smile and murmured his goodbyes again, then ducked out the door. Anna turned to Mary, who had a confused _(and increasingly horrified)_ expression on her face. "Don't," Anna whispered.

"John Bates?" Mary said slowly. "From Kent?" Her eyes searched the floor briefly. " _He's_ your JB?"

" _Don't_ , Mary," Anna repeated, stronger this time. " _Please._ "

Mary took her by the shoulders and shook her, startling Anna. "Are you out of your _mind?"_ she hissed. She leaned in close to Anna and looked back over her shoulder at the lab door, as if she expected an invasion at any moment.

Anna shrugged Mary's hands off of her, anger and fear clouding her thoughts. "It's none of your concern who I date," she snapped back _(this was bad this was bad this was bad)._

"It is when we have a no fraternization clause in our contracts!" Mary said in a loud whisper, looking sideeyed at the doorway. "We can't have relationships with people who work for certain companies. Kent, Abbott, Bayer…"

"Don't you think I know that?" Anna hissed, tears burning her eyes. _(this was it, this was how her career would be destroyed, not by an enemy, but by a friend)_. "We didn't know who the other worked for when this started." 

"Well, you have to end it."

"I will _not._ "

"You _have_ to."

"No, Mary, I lo-" The word died on her lips, but her expression must have been all that Mary needed to realize that this was serious. Tears blurred her vision. _(she'd almost said it. she'd. almost. said it.)_

Mary balled one hand into a fist and pressed it to her mouth. "If Papa finds out...Anna, he has a zero tolerance policy since the formula for Zyfangril leaked out a few years ago." Her eyes widened and her mouth gaped open. "Tony was headed down to HR. He might let it slip."

"Oh god," Anna murmured, feeling lightheaded. She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes.

"I'll stop him and make sure he understands."

"He knows it was me," Anna resigned. "He had to have seen us at the restaurant or walking back to the hotel."

Mary shook her head firmly as she headed for the door. "I'll _convince_ him to forget about it," she reassured her. "Don't go anywhere. I'll be right back." She dashed from the room, leaving Anna alone with her doubts.

Her stomach knotted and twisted, and she held her phone in front of her, wanting to call John to warn him, but afraid to him into a panic if it was all for nothing. She knew she absolutely did not _(and would not)_ want to end it with John. She was far too deep entrenched with him to just walk away.

As promised, Mary returned a few minutes later, a relieved smile on her face. "I think you're in the clear," she announced after closing the door.

"What did you say to him?" Anna asked nervously. "What did he say to you?"

Mary rolled her eyes. "He believes you completely. He even seems sorry for John. He said he seemed distracted when he saw you at the hotel, then later on, he thought you were giving him a goodbye kiss on the curb."

 _(but what if it wasn't enough? what if tony dug deeper? what if he knew someone at kent? or what if he decided that mary was covering for anna and mary got in trouble for it?)_

"He ended up asking me to dinner," Mary continued. "I accepted, partly to thank him for his _understanding_ , and partly because I want to see what's under that white coat. If he needs more convincing, I'll be happy to do so, depending on how dinner goes tomorrow night."

Anna heaved a sigh of relief and covered her face with her hands. She nodded briefly and looked up at the fluorescent lights through her fingers. "Thank you," she murmured.

"I can't cover for you but so much though," Mary warned. "I'm on your side, you know, but I don't know how much sway I'd have over Papa. He and John have a _history_."

"I know."

"You _do_ know he's married, right? And his wife is a terror."

Anna nodded and wrung her hands together, looking down at them. "We've met, actually. They've been separated almost a year, months before we met," she explained in a rush. "He has to keep up appearances until he can get his company back from his father-in-law. If his wife finds out he's having an affair, he can lose everything, even though she's been living with someone else all this time."

Mary's dark eyes widened, her brows arching perfectly. "Golly," she mused. "That _is_ complicated."

"Yeah."

They sat in silence for a while, Anna picking at the corner of one fingernail and Mary straightening papers that were already perfectly squared away.

"You're risking your job here, and he's risking his entire life. Is the sex _that_ good?" Mary asked after a minute.

"Oh, _god_ yes _,_ " Anna said without hesitation.

Both of them broke into uproarious laughter.

 _(more and more, she was beginning to believe he was worth throwing it all up for. but did he feel the same way? if push came to shove, would he do the same?)_


	13. surprise-plans

_**surprise.**_

After eleven hours on a Christmas Eve redeye _(he did spring for business class for the comfort, but he couldn't sleep a wink from the anticipation)_ , all his mind wanted him to do was check into his hotel, take a shower, and crash into bed. His heart had other ideas.

 _(he did everything but check into the hotel)_

John stood nervously at the doorway to her flat, having knocked once already. He was three days early and hoped that Anna wouldn't mind _(if she would only open the bleeding door)._ He hadn't talked to her in the week that his father-in-law had been in town. Now, with the old man gone, Vera off to parts unknown with Rick, and a closed office, he had never felt so alone sitting in his home. So he rebooked his flight, packed his bags, and called a cab for the airport. He'd decided to surprise her, but was now having second thoughts.

He raised his hand for a second round of knocking, his heart heavy and his spirit dwindling. His other hand held his phone, his texts and calls unanswered. What if something was wrong? What if he had presumed too much by coming to her home unannounced? They had talked about spending time in his hotel, with its luxury bedding and jacuzzi tub _(silly, he knew, and foolishly expensive, especially for the time of year, but he wanted the best for her)._

He knocked again.

Counted to ten.

He raised his hand again.

The door opened just a crack, stopped by the chain, and he was greeted with one suspiciously narrowed blue eye peering through the opening.

"Happy Christmas," he whispered into the opening.

The door slammed.

There was a quick rattling of the chain and the door whooshed open, Anna's expression having changed from one of annoyance to shocked joy. "John!" she practically shrieked, throwing her arms around his shoulders.

He tucked his head into the damp skin of her neck and inhaled deeply _(there was that body wash he so loved on her)_ , then dipped at the knees to pick her up. Her feet dangled several inches off the floor as he hugged her close to him, heavy heart suddenly soaring.

"You're early," she giggled into his shoulder.

"Are you complaining?" he replied cheekily, then set her down on her feet to get a good look at her. She must have been in the bath, with her hair wrapped in a towel and a pink fluffy robe cinched around her waist.

Anna's hands danced across his chest and up to his cheeks, which were pulled tightly into a smile. "Only because I haven't cleaned my flat yet," she groused. "I wasn't expecting you until Sunday evening."

Her happy disbelief was infectious, and he felt his eyes burning with joyful tears. "I caught an earlier flight," John replied, looking over her shoulder into the small foyer. "I hope you don't mind that I dropped by unannounced. I can still go to my…"

She cut him off with a thorough kiss that made his body tingle and his heart race. Her hands threaded through his hair restlessly and all he wanted to do was to melt into her. "Don't be foolish," she breathed against his lips. "And don't you dare leave."

 _(she was amazingly strong as she pulled him into her flat and down the hall to her bedroom)_

* * *

 _ **plans.**_

Three hours later, Anna sat curled into the old armchair by her bedroom window, smiling as she watched the late afternoon light play across John's skin. She had slipped into a comfortable old t-shirt that fell to mid-thigh and wrapped herself in her favourite plush throw. She'd wanted to spend the afternoon in bed with him, but she quickly grew restless and set about straightening her flat a bit in the hopes that he didn't notice how disarrayed it was on their way to her bedroom.

 _(he was here. in her home. in her bed. the sun kissed everywhere her lips had been and more, the pink rush of passion giving way to the orange hue of the sun)_

Her hair was still slightly damp, as was the part of her pillow that the towel hadn't protected when it fell from her head. She ached in all of the right places. And of course she needed another shower _(later, with him to wash her back for her)._

 _Their joining had been fast (she had to assure him that he hadn't hurt her when he pushed into her quickly, making her cry out. she was not about to tell him that he had, just a little, but in the best way), and their climaxes sudden and hard. He'd collapsed into the pillow beside her, his weight both welcome and restrictive. She gave him time to catch his breath, stroking his back and shoulders with her hands and the heel of one foot (he'd said before that he was amazed at her flexibility)._

" _You alright?" she said in a little voice in his ear._

" _Yeah," he groaned. "I think."_

 _She waited for him to move, biting her lip and drumming her nails on his upper arm. "You're very heavy, you know," she giggled._

 _He immediately shifted his weight off of her and apologized, sending both of them into a panic when the condom slipped off. He managed to catch it in time and they shared an awkward laugh that almost precipitated the discussion they hadn't been prepared for before, but she felt was inevitable. And soon._

"Hello there," John's voice rumbled deep in his chest as he stirred, startling her out of her memories. His sleepy eyes regarded her without the characteristic creases that she adored. He was softer, more relaxed than she'd ever seen him. _(she wondered how deep those creases were before vera etched them further into his skin)_

"Hi," Anna whispered back, showing him slight, yet happy smile.

John frowned and looked around the room. "How long was I out?" he asked with a groan, shifting himself up against the pillows into a semi-seated position. The sheet covered him from the waist down, and her eyes twitched downward of their own accord.

"Almost three hours or so," Anna replied. "I figured you'd be out longer."

He smiled gently and patted the empty space beside him. Anna stood up from the chair and padded across the old wooden floor to the bed, then crawled in with him. She threw her arm over his belly and tucked against his solid warmth. John put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head.

"I missed you," he said, inhaling her scent deeply. "It's been too long."

"It has," she agreed. She played with the dark hair on his chest as his fingers traced swirls under the hem of the shirt she wore _(and nothing else, as he was discovering just now)._ "Will you…" She took an expectant breath. "Would you like to stay here?" she asked hesitantly. "Until it's time to go back?"

"Would you like me to?" John asked with hope in his voice.

Anna grinned and hugged him tighter. "Yes," she decided.

"But the hotel has a big bed and a jacuzzi," he reminded her in a singsong lilt.

 _(tempting. she'd never had sex in a hot tub…)_

She craned her neck to look up at him, narrowing her eyes. "I can have my way with you just fine right here," she said, her hand drifting low on his belly. "There's no need to spend all of that money when there's a perfectly good bed right here. Who knows when we'll get this chance again?"

John's eyes flashed darkly and he gave her a wicked smile. "Then by all means, let this be our little love nest for the next week. I'm all yours when I'm not out being the dutiful son."

She had almost forgotten the true purpose of his visit to London. "When will you go visit your mum?"

"Tomorrow afternoon," he said, pressing his lips together not in a smile, but with something tinged with regret and anxiety _(and definitely sadness)_. "Her health hasn't been terrific this past year, which is why she's living in a retirement community now."

"You should see her as much as possible," Anna advised him.

His chest dropped in a heavy sigh. "I will. Whatever she feels up to. She tires easily. What about you? Will you see your family tomorrow?"

She tried to keep her expression neutral, but her slight frown her thoughts. He tightened his arm around her. "No," she said finally. "I don't get along with my mother's husband, and she's chosen him over me and my sister _(she chose a man who had wandering eyes and curious hands who bore a scar from a screwdriver's point in his thigh and a healthy fear of little blonde firebrands who take no shit)._ We don't talk much. A card on holidays. I see Mam when she comes down south without him, but I don't go up to Yorkshire to visit her much. And my sister is recently married, so she's spending the holidays with his family this year."

John sighed, the exhale sad and sympathetic. "So if I weren't here, you'd have spent Christmas alone?"

She stayed silent _(pathetic, wasn't it? the only meaningful relationship she had was as the mistress to a married man)._

He seemed to sense her melancholia and pulled her tightly to him, his body warm and comforting. Anna closed her eyes and buried her face in his chest.

"Then my goal is to give you the happiest of Christmases," John promised.

 _(somehow they managed that together)_


	14. gifts-losses

_**gifts.**_

They awakened the next morning in each others arms, deciding to lounge about in bed and sharing memories of Christmases past. Her happiest had been when her father was alive _(he'd died in a construction accident when she was nine)_ , and his happiest was that very morning _(though he told her instead that it was the christmas when he got his favourite dog, oscar, a half-blind old terrier who needed a home)._

There was no talk of gifts between them, yet he longed to dig into his bag and retrieve the slender box with the bright coloured paper. She had no Christmas decorations in her flat, no presents that he could see. She had shown him around the tidy place the evening before, with its light grey and tan walls accented with vibrant coloured pillows and throws and artwork. It suited her well, and he smiled as he watched her move easily around the comfortable kitchen preparing a small breakfast for the two of them.

Finally, he could take it no longer, and after they'd cleaned up the remnants of breakfast together, he retrieved her gift. He pulled it from behind his back and held it out to her when she turned back around, her eyes going wide in shock.

"You didn't have to get me anything…" she started to say.

He silenced her with a shush and a shake of his head. "I wanted to," he replied. "Please. Open it."

Anna hesitated for a moment, then smiled in appreciation. A massacre of paper happened over the kitchen table, until Anna gasped and brought her free hand to her lips. "John, this is too much. I can't take this," she whispered, tears shining in her eyes.

"Yes, you can," he insisted. He walked around behind her and pulled the hair back from one side of her neck, kissing the skin he found, then pulled the silver and diamond necklace from its box _(the one he'd stood in front of the shop window admiring for several minutes before he decided to go inside and have a better look. the one that he had to call the credit card company to raise his limit and authorize the transaction in order to purchase. the one that he had decided was worth the paper trail if vera ever got ahold of his financial information)_. He slid it around her neck, tracing her skin with his fingertips as he secured the delicate clasp. He placed one open mouthed kiss over the top bump of her spine before turning her around gently.

Anna's eyes shone with tears _(was she happy? sad? frightened? was it indeed too much?)_. Her hand came up to finger the strand of gemstones as it lay over the worn cotton of her t-shirt.

"You can wear it to the symphony New Year's Eve," John told her, brushing the hair back from her temple as she avoided his gaze. "We have box seats and I kept the hotel reservation for that night and the night after."

"It's too much," she protested again in a small voice.

"You're _worth_ it," he insisted quietly. "This and _so_ much more. I ask for and expect nothing in return."

She finally met his eyes as twin tears coursed down her cheeks. She was smiling, at least, nervously and genuinely. "I have something for you as well," she said, patting him on the chest. She bounded into the living room before he could protest, returning a few moments later with a flat box wrapped in purple paper with gold snowflakes and green stars _(the paper was endearingly hideous)_.

John smiled and opened the paper carefully _(just as had been drilled into his head as a child by his spendthrift father who insisted on using the same paper and boxes every year)_ , finally revealing a slightly battered and faded copy of Ernest Hemingway's _A Farewell to Arms._

"I love Hemingway," he whispered, tracing the faded blue dust jacket covered spine with one reverent finger.

"I know."

"This is my favourite."

"I know," she repeated, clearly proud of herself.

He eagerly _(and carefully, oh so carefully)_ opened the book and turned a few pages in to confirm his suspicions. First edition, 1929. He turned back a page to see an inscription from the author himself.

 _To John,_

 _with best wishes for your travels,_

 _Ernest Hemingway_

He frowned at the obvious problem he had with the inscription _(the old man was long dead, and unless anna had a time machine in her closet…)_.

"My maternal grandfather's name was John Hayes," Anna explained. "It was his favourite book as well. He just happened to have it in his bag when he and my grandmother met Hemingway at a cafe during their honeymoon in Paris."

It was his turn to protest. "Anna, this should stay in your family. I can't accept it." _(it was too much)_

"You can and you will," she said firmly, wrapping her arms around his waist and looking up at him pointedly. "I want you to have it."

He set the book down on the table behind her and cradled her face in his hands, dwarfing her delicate features. _(he would tell her. this was the perfect moment, standing in her kitchen, a flood of emotions washing all around and threatening to pull them under. he loved her and he was sure that she loved him. now was the time.)_

His cell phone rang.

Both of them jumped and laughed nervously as he dug the offending device out of his pocket and looked at the screen. "It's my mother," he said with a frown.

Anna patted him on the chest and took a step back, the diamonds catching the light and sparkling brilliantly. He sighed regretfully at the lost moment before tapping the screen of his phone.

"Hello, Mum," he crooned.

"Johnny?" his mother answered. "Is that you?"

"Yes, ma'am," John chuckled. "Happy Christmas."

Anna smiled and slinked off to part unknown as his mother chatted away. His mother informed him that she'd been mistaken at the time of the retirement home's annual Christmas dinner and that he should get down there as soon as possible to get a good seat for the seniors' pageant. At least she was lucid and seemingly in good spirits today. He only hoped that would hold.

When he finally hung up and went in search of Anna, he found her staring out the window onto the street below, her fingers playing with the largest center diamond. He slid his arms around her from behind and kissed the shell of her ear. "Do you like it?" he asked in a soft voice. "Are you having a happy Christmas?"

"You have no idea," Anna whispered, turning her head to capture his lips briefly. "You've made it a very happy Christmas, just by being here."

 _(he could think of ways it could be happier, if he was free of vera and instead wore anna's ring on his finger. in their home together, with their children all around them…_ )

John blinked back tears at the sudden evolution of his life's dream. If they could only last the time until he was free. He could have everything then. Anna, his company, a future where he didn't have to sacrifice one for the other...

"When do you need to leave?" she asked after a few moments.

John exhaled softly. "Very soon. She's expecting me by two. I should be back around six or seven."

"I'll have dinner ready," Anna said cheekily.

John kissed her cheek and hugged her tightly. They swayed back and forth together, her back against his front and his head tucked into the crescent of her shoulder, until he absolutely had to leave her to catch the train.

 _(it could be like this every day, if he was only willing to let go. he thought back to the book, a tale of love and war and separation and reunion where, in the end, the hero lost_ _the girl and therefore lost everything.)_

* * *

 _ **losses.**_

He hadn't arrived home between six and seven as he'd said, and Anna was beginning to worry by eight. She glanced at her phone, silent and dark on the kitchen counter, for the hundredth time. She wouldn't call couldn't. _(she needed to know he was okay)_

Finally, around half eight, there was a tentative knocking on her door, and she rushed to open it, not even bothering to look through the peephole or use the safety chain. John stood outside, wool coat pulled up around his red ears and his hair blown in every direction. He looked like he was freezing.

"I was beginning to worry about you," she said carefully, sweeping her arm aside to welcome him in.

He hesitated for a moment before stepping into the flat, closing the door behind him. "I'm sorry," he said in a hoarse voice. "I've been walking around for a while. I needed some time alone."

Anna blinked and swallowed a sudden lump in her throat. _(maybe this was too soon for him, staying with her. he needed space. their relationship wasn't what she thought it was.)_

"It's not you," he said quickly. His eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. "It's not us. It's my mother."

Anna nodded, her fears assuaged for the moment. She offered to take his coat and hung it up on a peg behind the door. "Would you like a cuppa?" she asked, taking one of his icy hands in hers and leading him into the living room.

"Thank you," John said wearily as he sat down on the sofa.

When she returned a few minutes later, two cups in hand, she noticed he was hugging one of the sofa's throw pillows to his body, staring at middle space and not blinking.

"John?" Anna called softly as she offered him his cup.

He did give her a small smile as he accepted the tea _(she'd already put a spoonful of honey and two drops of lemon in it),_ draining it in a few strong gulps while her own sat untouched. She waited for him to begin talking.

"I'd hoped she would be...lucid today," he said as he placed the cup and saucer down on the table beside him. "When she called, she remembered who I was. By the time I got there…"

"I'm sorry," Anna said, sliding closer to him on the sofa. "It must be difficult."

He nodded and hugged the pillow tighter to him. "It's been fast. She'd been a little forgetful for a few months, which is why I encouraged her to look into the place she lives now. Last time I was here, I took her on the tour and got her all squared away. She was excited to make new friends. They have shows and activities there. They make sure she eats well and takes her medicines. They take good care of her, I make sure of that. But since I saw her last, she's gotten worse."

He took a steadying breath, his eyes glossing with tears. "She's barely there anymore. First she called me Edward, who was my father, then she started yelling at me to leave. He wasn't always a good man to her, you see, and I look a great deal like him. So I waited in the common room for a while, and checked in on her again. She asked who I was. Except for those very rare moments, she doesn't remember me. I was hoping she would, before I had to go. She didn't. She doesn't know me."

Tears coursed down Anna's cheeks for him as he raised one shaky hand to cover his eyes. "I have no one left anymore, except for you," he said in a reedy whisper. "And I can't even have you."

Anna slid her arm around his shoulder and pulled him into her lap, cradling him and running her hand through his hair soothingly _(he was a giant sized little boy in her arms)._ "You have me right now," she whispered, her throat tight and her heart aching for him.

 _(you'll have me forever, if you want)_

Dinner was long forgotten, as was any notion of a passionate evening between them. Whatever he needed, she would give him freely. Tonight, all he needed was the safety of her presence and the reminder that he wasn't alone, no matter the distance between them.


	15. harmony-intermezzo

_**harmony.**_

The week he was with Anna was surprisingly mild and dry for a London winter. They weren't so bold as to flaunt themselves in broad daylight _(where her neighbours could gawk and john could improbably run into an old acquaintance in a city of ten million)_ , but when they managed to pull their clothes on and step outside the warm confines of her flat, they felt free nonetheless.

John fell into periods of pensiveness and Anna alternated between letting him brood and offering him comfort. He came out of them faster each time he had them, but she could tell that his mother's condition was affecting him deeply. Two days after Christmas, he went to see her again, and returned with a broad smile to tell her that his mother had been mostly lucid that day and they had shared a lovely lunch and stroll around the gardens together.

It was satisfying just to fall asleep together at night without the expectation of making love, even though they did indulge a few times _(and not always at night, or even in the bedroom)_. They cooked together, washed dishes together, went to the market together. They each had the shared but unspoken realization between them that these most mundane of tasks were so _normal_ , that they wanted to spend the rest of their days doing them together.

 _(neither was prepared to give their thoughts for the future voice. not yet.)_

They held hands as they toured Hyde Park _(where she hadn't been in years)_ and the British Museum _(he charmed her with his knowledge of antiquities and surprised her with his venom at the theft of them from their rightful owners)._ She found the flat woolen cap he wore low on his forehead to be quite endearing, and he said adored the almost Bohemian clothing she had traded out for the pencil skirts and tailored blazers he usually saw her in.

Ten million people. They should remain anonymous, statistically speaking. They were different people here, after all.

* * *

 _ **intermezzo.**_

New Year's Eve came quickly, as the time they had together flew by far too fast, the inexorable march of time and the countdown to the end of their indulgence drew to a close. They decided to spend two nights at the five star hotel John had reserved _(as most of their time together in the past had been spent in two and three star accommodations with questionable bed linens),_ then the last few nights back in her flat before he had to head home.

 _(san francisco wasn't home anymore. it was simply where he kept his things and earned his money. home was where she was, when_ they _were.)_

They packed two small bags with enough for two days at the hotel and took a taxi over in the early afternoon. Her eyes widened when he pulled an envelope full of money out of his coat pocket and passed it to clerk, who discreetly counted it and confirmed their reservation.

"John?" Anna asked after they got to their room and he had dismissed the bellhop with a folded banknote pressed into the young man's palm.

"Hmm?" he replied absently as he began unzipping his bag to lay out his clothes for the evening.

"All of the money you've been spending…it's quite a lot."

He clenched his jaw and frowned. "It is," he agreed quietly.

Anna fiddled with the handle of her bag on the bed, drumming her nails on the well-traveled and worn fabric, a sharp contrast to the clean lines and hand-stitched leather of his bag. "Can you really afford all of this?" she asked.

John let his fingers drift over his garment bag before straightening and giving her a small smile. "I can afford it quite well," he said. "But I'd rather not discuss it tonight, or even tomorrow. It's a discussion for another day. I promise."

Anna's eyes narrowed shrewdly and she pressed her lips together _(that look was universal in every woman in his life. the discussion was definitely not over, just delayed slightly.)_ "Alright, Mister Bates," she said with a hint of fire and a smirk that nearly did him in. "We spent a lot of time and effort getting to this point. Let's just enjoy ourselves."

They dressed separately, him first, then she disappeared into the restroom for what felt like an hour or more as he watched the evening news on the large telly. She'd told him that he looked quite handsome in his tuxedo _(that he brought all the way to london)_ , but he gave an audible gasp when she emerged in her dress. It had been quite expensive, once _(she told him she'd nearly screamed when she found it in a charity shop a few years ago, but had never had the occasion to wear it)._ It looked amazing on her, as if its dark blue, shimmering fabric had been specifically cut just to fit her. The necklace he'd given her had found mates in a pair of earrings that matched it almost perfectly, and overall, even in his expensively tailored tuxedo, he felt quite underdressed and out of his league.

"Will this do, Mister Bates?" Anna asked as she toed her shoes on with a smug smile.

John stared at her, open mouthed and dumbfounded _(score one, anna)_ before he licked his lips and spoke. "You look absolutely exquisite, my dear," he said as he took her hand and kissed her knuckles, making her blush crimson. He turned her hand over and placed an open mouthed kiss in her palm, her fingers curling around his chin in response _(if he hadn't spent so much on the tickets, he would have suggested that they should just stay here all night)._

But they went. And they barely remembered the performance, by the time the evening was over.

They were personally escorted to their private box seats by an attendant who received fifty quid and a whispered order that they were not to be disturbed all evening _(even if the building caught fire)_. Anna gazed around the ornate concert hall from their high vantage point nervously.

"I hope you're not scared of heights," John whispered as he ran his thumb across the back of her hand as he helped her into her seat. There was room for four in the box, with two wide seats that sat two people each. He'd bought all of them.

"I am, actually," she confessed. "Just a little."

He sat down beside her and put his arm around her shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I can see if we can move to the floor seats."

Anna waved him off and threaded her fingers with his over her bare shoulder. "I'm fine," she reassured him. "Just hold onto me so I don't fall."

Before he could say something trite and sappily romantic, the house lights dimmed and their attention was turned to the deep red curtain of the stage as it swept aside to reveal the seated orchestra.

They spent the next thirty minutes or so giving the performance their rapt, undivided attention. Each piece was accompanied by a pianist and a vocal soloist who sang in an operatic style that he supposed would have enjoyed, if it wasn't for the fact that Anna's hand had found his lower thigh.

To be fair, he'd been toying with the soft skin of her shoulder and upper arm most of the evening, but when her hand flattened against his leg, it seared straight through the fabric and burned his skin. He found himself squirming almost uncomfortably, only to drive her hand a little higher and a little closer to the slight twinge of desire that had begun to take root.

He looked around, noted that they were in the highest box in the theater where no one could see them in the darkness, then remembered the money he'd given the attendant to guarantee their privacy.

 _(could he be so bold?)_

John slowly drew his hand from around her shoulders and down between them, the backs of his knuckles teasing the draped fabric over her crossed legs. Anna's foot twitched in reflex and he saw her chest rise and fall tantalizingly out of the corner of his eye. With the pad of his thumb and the side of his finger, he pinched the fabric and drew it upward just enough for the slit of her dress to expose her stockinged leg to his other fingers.

Anna gasped aloud and flexed her fingers, digging into his leg with her own hand. She moved restlessly in her seat, her crossed legs rubbing against each other. John smirked and slid his fingertips over the silky stocking, swirling his fingers in slow circles until he encountered an unexpected strip of fabric. He followed it slightly upward until he realized what it was.

 _(a bloody french garter belt was what it was)_

John swallowed thickly, as it was his turn to squirm in his seat, the symphony forgotten. He looked around again to confirm that they couldn't be seen from where they sat. His fingers wedged between her crossed thighs just as her hand slid over his burgeoning hardness. She cupped him boldly and adjusted his length into a more comfortable and freer position, instantly coaxing him to a firmness that was outright unacceptable in public. They could be thrown out at best, arrested at worst, even if they weren't in an absolutely unobservable position in their private box. They had to stop before they went too far _(he just didn't want to)_.

 _(anna had seemed to come to the same conclusion as he had, the naughty girl.)_

Her right leg slid off of her left, allowing him access the searing, humid heat between them. He could see her biting her lower lip in the darkness, eyes closed and head slightly tilted back. If anyone could see her, they would think she was simply absorbed in the beauty of the symphony. He risked sliding his hand another inch higher and glanced across the already soaked gusset of her panties.

 _(fucking hell)_

Then the music stopped, and thunderous applause shocked them out of their private world. As the lights raised for intermission, they withdrew their hands and rearranged their clothing. Anna joined in the applause before he could shake himself back into reality. As the crowds beneath them began to wander off and mingle, John leaned over and touched his lips to the shell of her ear.

"Are you enjoying the symphony, Doctor Smith?" he asked in a husky whisper.

Anna nodded, her colour high and her eyes heavy-lidded with desire. "I am," she agreed. "But that's not the performance I'm interested in right now." She slid her hand back over to his leg and gave it a gentle squeeze.

John swallowed thickly and adjusted his collar. "What do you say to calling it an evening?"

Anna made a show of considering his proposal. "We'll miss the second half," she pouted.

"I'll make it up to you."

"Alright then, I'll fetch our coats," she offered without hesitation. She glanced downward at his pants and smiled. "I'll meet you in the lobby when you're ready."

Before he could agree wholeheartedly with her, she stood up, patted her hair, and parted the curtain, leaving him alone to get control of himself before he broke public indecency laws.

 _(she was going to be the damned death of him)_


	16. prelude-coda

_**prelude.**_

The two block walk back to the hotel was silent between them. Anna clung to John's arm _(an anchor to keep her from floating away)_ , and his hand rested atop hers _(to remind him that she was real)_. They nodded at the front desk clerk, who remembered John's name and murmured a _good evening, Mister and Missus Bates_ that they didn't care to correct _(thought it did make them smile)_. John's hand swept protectively _(possessively)_ behind her back as he ushered her to the bank of lifts. They waited, patient on the outside, screaming for the lifts to hurry up and arrive on the inside.

Finally, the bell sounded and they waited until the poshly dressed couple inside exited, then pushed into the lift, both of them reaching for the button for their floor simultaneously. They shared a nervous laugh when their fingers collided. John slid his arm around Anna's waist and pulled her close, kissing the top of her head and closing his eyes. He felt like the luckiest bastard in the world as the lift ascended, bringing them closer to their much anticipated night together.

 _(what neither of them saw were the faces of the very inebriated couple on their way to their second party of the night, with the woman with the ice blue eyes tugging at her husband's sleeve and asking 'Robert, wasn't that John Bates?' just after the doors slid closed)_

* * *

 _ **symphony.**_

There was something different in the air tonight, Anna thought, as they stepped over the threshold and into their opulent room. No words were spoken _(they weren't needed)_ as John removed his jacket and tossed it over the back of the nearest chair. Anna slid her shoes off and crouched on the end of the bed, waiting for him, her dress bunched up slightly and revealing the thin strip of fabric that had nearly sent him over the edge not twenty minutes ago. He unknotted his black bow tie and let it drape around his neck as he caught her gaze. She crooked her finger and bit her lip in anticipation.

With an almost predatory gleam in his eye _(a leopard or panther, she thought in amusement, not the bear that usually greeted her)_ , he slowly walked over to the bed and buried his hands in her hair, tossing and teasing it as she rose as high as she could on her knees _(and still not nearly high enough)_ , meeting him halfway with a hunger that threatened to consume them both.

Buttons and zippers were made quick and well practiced work of, and when she was bared to him save for the garter, stockings, and suspenders, he settled between her legs and teased at the sheer fabric with his nose and lips. Anna's fingers splayed across his shoulders and threaded through his hair as he worked his way upward between her thighs. She dug her nails into his upper arms as he held her steady when she came with a wordless cry.

Anna watched him through heavy lidded eyes as he fumbled for protection. There was a vulnerability to his usual self-confidence as he arched his torso forward and rolled the thin latex over himself. The lines in the corners of his eyes were deep, but relaxed. The soft roundness of his shoulders, the firmness of his arms _(that corded and strained when he was above her)_ , the proud lines of his profile. The angry scar that they never really talked about, the thick thighs that he did _(he hated them)._ He was perfect in all of his brokenness.

A lump rose in her throat as heat washed over her anew, and she sat up to ease her leg over him, earning a surprised smile and raised brows from him. She gazed into his eyes and saw the reflection of her own feelings staring right back at her. As she settled into place in his lap, she stroked the lines and marks of his face, brushed the grey at his temples, and took a deep breath.

"John," she whispered, unable to speak any louder for fear of losing her voice _(for losing her very breath)_. "I…"

"I know," he said hoarsely, his own eyes brimming with tears. "Me too."

Their feeling were unspoken, but not unacknowledged. She reached down and guided them together finally, her sitting astride his lap with her legs around his hips, his arms encircling her and holding her so close that there was little room for movement between them. It was enough to have the feeling of him inside her and and around her and as a part of her. When they finally felt the undeniable urge to move, he easily helped lift her as she rose above him, rocking her hips steadily at first, then erratically back and forth and up and down without rhythm or finesse.

 _(adagio quicked to allegro, legato shortened to staccato, deep baritone groans mixed with soprano cries)_

Close to her end again, Anna buried her face in his shoulder and whimpered, grinding her hips in an effort to find her release and help him toward his own. In the instant that the world turned blinding white and purple, she gasped and clung to him and cried out _"I love you"_ into the flesh just below his ear.

John immediately groaned and dug his fingers into her hips almost painfully, pulling her impossibly closer to him and releasing into her. He pumped against her several more times before tumbling backward onto the bed and bringing her with him. They were still joined _(he was still wonderfully hard)_ and she slowly circled her hips to catch the last few aftershocks.

 _(my beautiful, darling anna, he murmured as he peppered her with kisses and words that weren't i love yous)_

* * *

 _ **interlude.**_

Nothing else was said after their breathing calmed and sleep came to claim them.

Anna could hear fireworks outside at midnight, Big Ben chiming in the distance, and drunken revelers in the hallways of the hotel as she drifted to sleep, soothed by the steady beating of his heart. As she fell asleep, she added a few bricks to the wall around her heart that she thought had been carted away in wheelbarrows and wishes. The single tear that gathered in the corner of her eye never fell.

He hadn't said it back.

 _(she hadn't expected him to, really)_

* * *

 _ **coda.**_

It was quite late when her breath was absolutely even and she snored lightly into his chest before he dared speak. John kissed the top of her head, careful not to wake her, and breathed the words he'd been rehearsing for months into her tousled hair.

"I love you, Anna," he whispered, shame and regret and joy mixing in his words. "I didn't know how much I could love someone until I met you."

She stirred and arched against his side but never awakened. He almost wished she had.

 _(his entire world slept in his arms as they completed another arbitrarily marked revolution around the sun)_


	17. escape-deflection

_**escape.**_

The sun was fairly high in the sky by the time Anna awakened _(for the third and final time at least, when the call of nature wouldn't let her sleep longer)_. The sheets were twisted around her legs, evidence of a fitful sleep. There was a solid bulk against her back _(John's body),_ a heavy weight across her waist _(John's arm)_ , and something rather insistently nestled against her backside _(John's…)_

"Good morning," he mumbled behind her, his morning stubble grazing her shoulder and making her shiver _(had last night gone differently, that shiver would have been delightful, but instead she felt cold)._

Anna only hummed in return, glancing at the clock _(8:33)_ and then at the hand that was slowly working its way under the sheet and down her side. She twisted her way out of the sheets and sat up, leaving his hand to grasp at empty air. "I'm going to go get a shower," she said quickly, crossing the opulent room to the equally posh bathroom without looking back.

It only occurred to her after she'd pushed inside and shut the door that she'd done the long walk in the nude. If she could have taken the entire bedspread, she would have. Her fingers clutched the doorknob behind her and turned the lock with a resounding click.

She turned on the shower tap, all the way to the hottest hot, and stared at her hollow reflection in the mirror as steam began to fill the air.

And she wept.

* * *

 _ **evasion.**_

John watched her fly away from him _(there was that frightened little bird he'd tamed, flitting off to safety)_ and then winced when he heard the door lock. He lay on his side for several seconds before pushing himself up to stare at the closed door _(a mile high and ten miles thick)_.

"Fuck," he snarled, punching the bed beside him and running his hands through his hair.

He could hear the shower running and had half a mind to join her, to try to make things up, but the resounding click of the lock was a warning. She needed time. She needed space.

She didn't need him.

Scrubbing his eyes with one hand, he swung his legs out from under the covers and stood up. He stretched and covered his entire face with both hands, breathing deeply to calm himself _(he'd really fucked it all up again, hadn't he?)._

His eyes caught the room service menu and he decided that something as momentous as telling the woman you love that she was exactly _that_ needed to be done with at least coffee in his system. The growling of his stomach told him that he needed more than that, and he guessed Anna would be hungry as well, since it had been since their dinner before the symphony when they'd last eaten. A quick phone call to room service set breakfast in motion, and then a second phone call to the hotel concierge would bring the second part of his plan together.

* * *

 _ **redirection.**_

There were any number of reasons why he hadn't replied to her _I love you_ , she decided as the water scorched her skin and washed the tears away.

He hadn't heard her at all _(he'd been rather preoccupied at the time)_.

He wasn't ready to say it back _(it's a hard thing to say, god knows it took her long enough)_.

He didn't feel the same _(this was the most difficult possibility, but also the one that she put the least stock into)_.

Everything he did for her was a demonstration of love. The way he looked at her, the way he visibly brightened in those first few moments when they met after a long separation, the simple fact that he'd spent God only knows how much money on this little excursion of theirs. The way his fingers and his lips lingered when he fastened the gorgeous _(and obviously expensive)_ necklace he'd bought her _(they would revisit the issue of money later)_. The hunger and devotion in his eyes as they moved together and the lingering touches afterward. Glances and smiles and sighs and whispers.

There was that moment before they made love when she'd almost said it and he'd said he felt the same. That had to mean something, right?

Anna felt warm for the first time all morning, and it wasn't because of the scalding hot water that pinked her skin.

* * *

 _ **deflection.**_

Breakfast had just been delivered and set upon the table, quickly followed by the concierge with a bouquet of cheerful flowers in a vase, when he heard the shower turn off. John took a deep breath and let it out sharply, his nerves bubbling to the surface and spilling over. He fidgeted with the cutlery and smoothed his shirt. He stared at the closed door, willing it to open _(or stay closed, for all of the fear within him)._

Finally, Anna emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a fluffy white hotel robe, her hair hanging in wet tendrils. He looked at her hopefully, and she returned his gaze with a little smile.

"What's all this?" she asked, quirking one eyebrow.

John swept his hands over the breakfast spread. "I wasn't sure what you would want, so I ordered a bit of everything." Muffins, toast, fruit, sausages, bacon, and eggs _(no wonder the young fellow who delivered it must have thought he was feeding an army)._

Anns slid around the table and sat down in the chair opposite him, her robe falling slightly open _(good)_ and revealing that she wore nothing underneath _(very good. the morning was looking better)._ "Are you trying to fatten me up, Mister Bates?" she asked playfully. Her smile broadened to beaming _(and maybe he read her wrong this morning)._

John grinned sheepishly and without even hesitating, he spoke. "Maybe, maybe not, but I think I would…"

 _(he would love her however, whatever, whenever was what he wanted to say)_

His cell phone rang, and both of them flinched at the shrill tone. A quick glance at the screen made his heart sink.

"My mother's facility," he said with a frown. A quick glance at Anna gave him her blessing, and he answered the call. "John Bates," he said quickly.

"Mister Bates?" the nurse replied tersely. "This is Ms. Hartwell at Queen's Regency. Your mother's been involved in an accident."


	18. comfort-cleanse

_**comfort.**_

"She's resting now."

Anna heaved a sigh of relief as John entered the little waiting room with two cups of coffee in hand. She smiled up at him from her plastic chair _(which was not made for sitting in, apparently)_ and took the paper cup from him. She knew without looking at it that it was already made to her taste _(two sugars, one cream, a splash of milk or hazelnut, whichever they had)._ He'd been making her coffee every morning they'd spent together the past nine or so months.

"What did the doctors say?" she asked as he gingerly took the seat beside her, setting his coffee down on the table beside him.

John sighed and scratched at his unshaven chin. "They want to keep her overnight, but she should be able to go back to Queen's Regency tomorrow. They have a step down care unit there." He crossed one leg over the other and Anna's hand automatically drifted to lace her fingers with his across his knee.

"Did they say how it happened?"

John's mouth pressed together in a thin line, his eyes flashing darkly. "She slipped on the stairs and hit her head. They didn't deem her a _wandering risk_ yet, so she didn't have the bracelet that keeps the doors locked. She'll get one when she goes back, that's for certain. They'll also move her to the corridor that houses people with…" He stopped and took an uneven breath as he leaned forward and grabbed a fistful of his hair with his free hand _(broken and on the verge of exploding)._

Anna slid her arm around his shoulders and felt the tremors that shook him. She shushed him gently as her hand traced whorls into the fabric. "What can I do?" she whispered as she rocked him ever so slightly.

His cheeks tightened into a small smile as he reached up to cover her hand with his. "You're already doing it," he replied.

* * *

 _ **care.**_

They decided to spend the second night at the hotel, despite Anna's protests. Her flat was closer to his mother, but he was insistent. After a lunch of cold sandwiches in the hospital cafeteria, they were more than eager to have dinner in a modest little family-owned restaurant on the way back to the hotel.

Of course, his mother had been on his mind, and he was pensive the rest of the day. He voiced his concerns about her future, knowing that she would never get better overall, and would only continue to decline, likely at a rapid rate.

Over a shared slice of tiramisu at dessert, he noticed that Anna was frowning _(trying to decide whether to speak or not. he knew that much about her by now)_.

"What's on your mind?" he asked quietly as he pushed his fork around the plate.

Anna put her fork down and licked her lips. "I was thinking about your mother," she said, "and how you're so frightened about leaving her again and not seeing her for another few months."

He nodded. It would be at least April or May before he could get back to London _(to see his mother, of course, but also to see Anna, if she'd have him)_. "I know she's getting good care, despite what happened this morning," he said slowly, "but I would prefer to be able to _see_ how she's doing."

She took a deep breath before continuing. "I could always look in on her for you," she offered. "When I'm home, I mean. It wouldn't be a bother. As a doctor, I could probably get credentialed for the facility." _(she said it all in a rush, as if he would stop her before she could get all of her generous offer out on the table)._ "No one would have to know that I'm your…" She left it in the air, nodding her head to one side.

 _(girlfriend, lover, mistress, dream of another life he could only hold onto for flitting moments)_

John thought about it for a moment, then smiled. "You'd do that for her?" he asked.

"For her," Anna replied. "And for _you_. I know she's all you have anymore…"

"That's not true," John said quickly, his voice catching. "I have you, right?"

Anna beamed, her smile brightening his mood as well as the very room they were in.

 _(only he didn't catch the shadow that darkened her eyes)_

* * *

 _ **cleanse.**_

"I've never been in a bathtub so large," Anna said with a groan as the warm water lapped at her shoulders. She giggled and took another sip of champagne before placing it on the ledge beside the tub.

John chuckled behind her, his chest reverberating deliciously against her back. "At least you're little enough that your entire body fits into a regular tub. I can't even get my knees under the water most of the time. I had a larger one put in at home so I can soak my knee."

Her finger traced the faded scars that marred his skin. Deep abrasions that obviously needed debriding, two surgical incisions, and one long and uneven laceration. She'd never asked, and he'd never told. She knew he had his good days and his bad, and that on bad ones, he often had to brace himself against a piece of furniture or a wall as he walked.

"Car accident," John blurted, surprising her. "Four, almost five years ago now."

Anna nodded and flattened her palm against the ball of his knee. "That's why you don't like to drive?" she asked.

He sighed and flexed his leg. "That, and I've never gotten used to driving on the other side of the road," he replied in a light tone, though she could feel his body grow tense behind her. "Vera was driving. She'd had too much to drink, and I'd had even more than that, and we were _stupid_ and didn't call a cab. She ran us into a telephone pole. I ended up with this."

At the mention of John's wife, Anna's stomach recoiled. "You were lucky then," she whispered. "Stupid, yes, but lucky."

"I _was_ lucky until I came to and found out that Vera had gotten off with barely a scratch and had left the scene," he continued, bitterness creeping into his voice. "I'd hit my head fairly hard, and in my stupor, I got out of the car and crawled around to the other side to check on her. The police found me slumped over beside the car and assumed I was driving."

"And she left you to it?" Anna asked incredulously, not believing what she was hearing. "Without a fight?" _(chalk up another horrid thing to Vera)_

"I took the fall for her because she had two prior convictions for driving while drunk. Her third offense would have had her in jail at worse or deported at best. I didn't want that to happen. I got a suspended license and a DUI on my record."

They sat in silence for some time after that before he spoke again. "We'd actually been having a good run together when it happened," he mused quietly. "I felt like there was a chance that we could rekindle things between us. But then she said some things to me while I was recovering. Not wanting to nurse a cripple and the like. She got nastier. Started drinking more. She started going out more, staying out late. I moved into the downstairs bedroom because it was easier than climbing the stairs. She stayed upstairs, when she was home at all. I got myself back on track on my own. When I got my license back, I decided to continue taking public transport and walking to work. It was mentally therapeutic, more so than the physical. It lets me clear my head every day. I'm still terrified of driving, though."

"Coming out to see me that time in Florida must have been torture," Anna snorted. _(sweating and red-faced and trembling, and not just because he'd chanced upon her in the hotel lobby)_

John laughed and tightened his arms around her. "I thought I'd piss my pants the entire way there," he said. "I ended up turning the car in at the local rental office and changing my flight home."

"It was a nice surprise," Anna said, leaning her head back against his shoulder and closing her eyes. "I liked seeing you that day, even though you went to a lot of trouble."

"It was worth it to see you, if only for a few precious moments," he replied, dipping his head to kiss the damp skin of her neck and as she remembered watching the sunset with him. "Our time together is so far between and I'd do anything for more of it." His hands roamed out of sight under the water, pressing and teasing and...

 _(oh god…)_

Anna bit back a moan as she reached up behind her to stroke his neck. "Anything?" she whispered as she arched against him.

Instead of replying, he slid out from behind her and climbed out of the tub. His eyes were dark and even in the slight chill of the opulent bathroom, he was more than ready for her. Anna took his offered hand, and after a quick mutual rubdown with towels, he picked her up and carried her over to the bed.

 _(she made sure to bite her tongue when love came into her thoughts again)_


End file.
